


When the Wind Whispers

by youworeblue



Series: Hylia's Chosen Hero [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: Angst, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Novelization, link is in love with his goddess, mostly sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-05-29 08:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 56
Words: 138,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15068738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youworeblue/pseuds/youworeblue
Summary: He could hear the wind whisper beyond the mouth of the cave."Link... You are the light."-Novelization with some liberties taken, mainly an expanded mythos and deeper insight into how Link processes his piecemeal destiny.Finished 10/10/18, but your reviews and kudos will help others find this work #algorithms





	1. Link's Awakening.

**Author's Note:**

> After playing the game to completion (DLC and all) several times, I decided to hand my Switch over to my little sisters. Watching them discover--or fail to find--important plot points gave me some inspiration and I had to get writing.
> 
> Apologize for small typos: some of my keys are broken.
> 
> No smut, no gore, but still not for the faint of heart.

The light was blinding—and, somehow, it was loud. It insisted that he wake, that he open his eyes, but he could not find his eyes. He was a consciousness in a warm void with neither a beginning nor ending.

The light surrounded him, reminding him of his shape. His fingers tingled, and something soft as silk floated under his chin. A chill began to intrude upon the warmth.

_Open your eyes._

The golden light was gone, and instead his vision was filled with a blurry blue. For a brief moment he thought of sleeping under open skies—

_Wake up, Link._

He blinked slowly, and the world came into focus. The blue light was from a strange fixture above him. He was aware that he was half submerged in warm water, and that it had begun to recede. The room around him was cold, and it clung to his damp skin, When the last of the water drained, the chill was enough motivation to move.

The boy sat up and looked around. There was no fear in him, only a dreamy curiosity. He did not understand the strange symbols carved into the stonework around him, and he did not know where he was or why he had been there in the first place. Had he put himself to sleep in this bath? Was he alone?

He knew he had a name, but what was it?

He was suddenly _very_ awake. The boy’s heart raced as he felt out the void in his memory. There was something urgent that he had to do, but he could not recall it, and the urgency threatened to send his heart beating out of his breast.

He ran a hand through his hair and tried to steady himself enough to stand. He climbed out of the basin and stepped toward the center of the room to take it in, but the room was empty save for a pedestal in the corner. It glowed with the same light as the lamp above him and the bottom of the basin he had woken in, but it was near a closed gate and that appealed to him.

He approached to examine it and was amazed when its glow intensified in his proximity. Then, it began to move. The stone ground softly as the centerpiece rotated, and then there was a soft click: a small tablet popped out to stare at him with a single, glowing eye.

 _That is a Shiekah Slate. Take it_.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

It was lightweight and cool, and it fit well in the palm of one hand. The wide, crying eye on one side kept glowing even after the pedestal it came from died down.

 _It will help guide you after your long slumber_.

He held it up and examined the other side, which seemed blank and black only for a moment. Then the glowing blue eye appeared in the center. The boy had never seen this device before, he was certain. And yet… there was something familiar about it.

The gate unraveled beside him so silently he almost didn’t notice. He hurried into the next room to see if he’d meet another living being, but it was as empty as the first. Without thinking, he reached for his waist and hooked the Shiekah Slate to his belt—right on a loop that seemed made for it.

Before he could wonder at the fact that he wore a belt made for the Shiekah Slate, but no other clothing, he noticed a large, moldy trunk in the corner beside him. There was no lock, and inside were clothes. The shirt and trousers were so old they felt like crepe paper, and they were a little short, but they clearly were meant for him.

Who had left them? Had he? Surely not.

He dressed quickly. In addition to the clothes, he found boots and a strap meant for a sword. When he went to search the rest of the room, he found nothing but another pedestal. It, too, began to glow as he approached. This one was orange, not blue.

 _Hold the Slate up to the pedestal. That will show you the way_.

He followed the suggestion (some part of him bristled at the thought of orders) and touched the face of the slate to the blank eye of the pedestal. As he did, a drop of blue light fell from the surface of the slate onto the eye—and the whole pedestal twinkled blue. He looked back at the active face of the Shiekah Slate and watched words appear before him:  _Authenticating,.. Shiekah Slate confirmed._

This time, the gate was larger, and he knew to watch for its opening. The eye at the center of the gate lit up momentarily, and the large stone pins that locked the gate in place began to retreat. As the last pillars began to rise, golden light spilled in to the room. It wasn’t as bright, as warm, or as loud as the light that had woken him previously, but it was brighter than any his eyes had seen in—a long time. He covered his face for a moment, but soon the warmth coaxed him into looking up.

He could hear the wind whisper beyond the mouth of the cave.

“Link… You are the light.”

The boy hadn’t realized how stale the air in the crypt was until that first breeze came down the stairs to him. It caressed his face, ran through his damp hair. _Link_ , he thought. _That’s me._

“You are the light,” the wind said, “our light, that must shine upon Hyrule once again. Now, go.”


	2. Follow the Shiekah Slate.

Link had to climb a boulder to leave the crypt, but as his head peeked over the top of it he caught a glimpse of tall grass that pulled him forward. He hopped up onto the boulder and sprinted beyond the mouth of the cave, into the grass, and out into the world.

Something swelled in him as he stood on the point of the cliff and looked out at the forest below him. Beyond that, he could see an erupting volcano, a storm system out to the east, and a large, snowy mountain range to the west. In the center of it all stood the castle.

He knew it to be _the_ castle. It called to him with its dark spires and twinkling glass.

Link ripped his eyes from it momentarily and looked down the length of the cliff to see a path that led past a large pond to another castle-like structure. It, too, called to him, but its steeple was obviously losing a battle to time. The town before it—he only guessed it to be a town—was in ruins.

Between him and the structure was a small stone outcropping, and under the outcropping there was a campfire and a man tending to it.

Link immediately had the foreboding sense that he should not be so unarmed and vulnerable outside of the cave, and whatever rush of…joy, excitement, he’d had coming out of the cave vanished. With only a tree branch in hand for self defense, he set off down the road to meet the stranger who had certainly seen him.

The man waited for him by the fire; a staff equipped with a lantern rested beside him. Link could not readily see the man’s face, as half of it was obscured by a great white beard, and the rest by the hood of his well-worn cloak. What Link could see was the man’s gentle smile. He chuckled delightedly as Link approached.

“Well met, stranger,” the old man told him. “It’s rather unusual to see another soul in these parts. Might you be a treasure hunter?”

Link stared at him suspiciously. He still held the tree branch in his hand, ready to spring into action. He had so many questions to ask this man that he forgot to answer the one posed to him. “Who are you?”

“Me?” The old man’s smile faded slightly. “I’m just an old fool who has lived here, alone, for quite some time now. I’ll spare you my life story. But what brings a bright-eyed young man like you to a place like this?”

“What is this place?” Link asked. “Where are we?”

“Answering a question with a question.” For a moment, Link wondered if he’d been too rude, but then the old man turned enough for Link to see the twinkle in his eye. “That is fair enough. I cannot imagine our meeting to be a simple coincidence, so I shall answer. This is the Great Plateau,” he said. “According to legend, it is the birthplace of the entire kingdom of Hyrule.”

The old man stood with the aid of his staff and gestured toward the large, ruined structure across the pond. “This temple has sat abandoned, in a state of decay, since the decline of he kingdom 100 years ago. Another forgotten entity…” The sadness in the old man’s voice gave Link pause. The old man’s gaze had dropped to the ground, and Link almost didn’t hear his next words. “A mere ghost of its former self, forgotten to time.”

The man sighed and lowered himself back to the ground by the fire. “I shall be here for some time. Please, help yourself to a baked apple before you go.”

Link squatted by the fire and picked up an aforementioned fruit. The skin was crisp, but he could feel the softness of the insides and his mouth began to water. He waited to eat, however. “Old man,” he said. “I have no memory of who I am or why I am here. Have you been here long? Might you know?”

He knew he had made himself vulnerable, revealing his situation, but he sensed no danger from the old man. Besides, from the way the old man leaned on his staff, Link doubted he was a threat.

He looked at Link for a long moment. “I limit my time on the Plateau to praying at the Temple and hunting yonder in the woods,” the old man said slowly. “There is much yet to discover.”

Link bit into his apple rather than reply. He couldn’t think of what to say, anyway. He supposed he might be suspicious by nature, but he had a feeling that the old man held a secret from him that could make all the difference.

“You’ll be here for a while?” he asked after he finished his apple. It certainly wasn’t enough food to satisfy his sudden hunger, but it helped. “I’m going to…discover things, but I may like to enjoy your company again.”

“Of course. Please let me know if I may be of assistance.”

Link nodded at the old man and set off further down the path. An axe protruded from the stump of a tree a few yards away, and he guessed that it belonged to the old man.

“Can I have your axe?” he called over his shoulder.

The man’s pealing laughter rained down on him. “If you can lift it, be my guest!”

Link wasn’t sure if he could lift it either, but he didn’t appreciate the old man’s skepticism. He put one foot on the stump and pulled on the axe with both hands, and when it came loose he strapped it across his back. Then, he climbed on to the stump and looked out at the lake.

He had a very stupid urge to jump.

He must be very stupid by nature, because he followed his urge—axe, Slate, and all.

The pond was so full of fish, Link fancied he might be able to snatch them up by hand. He held off for the moment, however—he’d have nowhere to put them, and he didn’t feel like preparing them immediately anyway. Instead, he swam through them to the center of the pond and hoisted himself on to the pillar of rock there. His grip was slick but sure, and he found footholds with ease.  
Link liked climbing,

At the top of the little island was the very thing that had drawn him there: a rusty sword thrust into the earth. He was a little disappointed when it snapped clean in two when he pulled on it. _That’s not what happens,_ he thought.

With half the sword in hand, he pondered that feeling for a moment. He could have pondered it all day, in fact. What was supposed to happen? Why would he expect more of a rusty broadsword?

He turned on his heel and spied a perfect circle of water lilies before him. The center of the circle was empty but for clear water that just invited him to dive in once more. Just as the thought entered his mind, his body acted on it, and he jumped for it. This dive was from a lower vantage point, and he was weighed down with two weapons now, but he slipped into the water cleanly between the lily pads.

When he resurfaced and shook the water from his eyes, he heard strange giggling above him. A little breeze hit his face; it swooshed down on him rhythmically from the spinning lily pad the strange creature was using as a propeller. It was laughing and babbling above him about what a terrible dive that was.

“Hey,” Link spluttered. “I wasn’t trying very hard.”

The little green creature gasped. “YOU CAN SEE ME?”

“Uh. Yes?”

“But you’re not Hestu!” The creature spun around in a circle. “When you find Hestu, give him this! He’ll want them back.”

The creature dropped on to Link’s head and dropped a little golden seed into the water in front of his face. Link dutifully scooped it into his hand. “Uh,” he said. “Sure.”

“Teehee! Thanks!” The creature floated off unceremoniously on the breeze and settled on the rock nearby. For lack of anything else to say, Link swam to the opposite shore and scaled the cliff face to reach the base of the Temple. His plan was to test his mettle and scale the full height of the building, but a sound drew his gaze back down from the spire. It was a loud, wet sniffling, as though from a large animal. Link’s stomach gurgled at the though of meat, but as he rounded the pile of rubble that hid the creature from view, he was shocked to find not a boar but a _beast._

The pudgy creature locked eyes with him, raised its head, and shrieked with glee. In its hand was a roughly hewn club that was clearly intended for bashing in skulls.

Link unhooked his axe and turned it over in his hands in what he hoped was a threatening fashion. Instead, the sight of a proper weapon seemed to excite the monster more. It did a little hot-footed dance and charged.

Link moved without thinking. He swung the axe and smashed the club out of the goblin’s hand with the blunt head of the axe, then swung it back so that the flat of the blade slapped the goblin full across the face. The monster flew back several feet, dazed, and Link lunged forward to pick up the club it had dropped. When he faced the goblin again, he found it stumbling toward him, eyes red and fangs bared.

Link brought the club down once more on the goblin’s head, and for a moment they stood face-to-face. It gave a shuddering gasp, exhaled its last stinking breath, and collapsed dead on the ground.

He stood over its body, club in his right hand, axe in his left, and his stomach in his throat. What was that creature? Who was it? It had known to wear a loincloth, it walked upright, but it clearly had no qualms about killing him. He did not feel bad for returning the favor, but he felt some sort of shame for not feeling bad. He wondered how the old man fared against these things; surely the old man wasn’t a fighter, but could one avoid them—

Link breathed deep and slow as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. He was out in the open, and the monster’s cackles could have alerted others nearby. He needed to find cover before he could have the luxury of reflection.

He cast around for anything else that the goblin may have dropped; in the pile of rubble, he found several threaded bolts made out of a lightweight material. He pocketed those for further examination. He was about to stand again when he saw the familiar symbols from within the crypt. They were warm from the sun but did not glow with blue or orange light. He brushed them off with his hand, then began to push aside more dirt and small rocks until he found what was behind them.

The sight of the great, dead eye—for it was an eye, he knew it—froze him where he stood. Bile rose in his throat; he couldn’t breathe, he felt like he was dying.

Link tumbled down the pile of rubble and hurried into the Temple. It was mercifully empty. He collapsed in a small alcove off to the right and emptied what little there was in his stomach. His face was wet, and his breath still came in ragged gasps. He could not calm himself no matter what he tried.

A voice called his name, and he spun around to find the Temple as empty as it was before. The sky seen through the wreckage of its eastern wall was growing dark. And yet light still shone on the large statue at the far end of the sanctuary. The little statues that ringed her wore blank faces, but her simple features looked down on him kindly.

He heard nothing but crickets and birdsong coming from the rafters, and no one spoke again. Somehow, that didn’t disturb him much. He had been hearing voices all morning. He wiped his face on his sleeve and sniffed mightily. He did not go to scale the Temple wall as he had planned. He gathered himself—and the bow and arrows resting in his alcove nearby—and marched out into the evening.

The old man waited for him outside. “Oh-ho!” he chuckled. “You were gone for so long, I feared the bokoblins had gotten the best of you. I am glad that isn’t the case.” He held his lantern aloft and pointed to the northeast. “The symbol on your waist apppears on a black stone over by those boulders. I discovered it on a walk today and it reminded me of you.”

Link was glad that the old man made no comment on his disheveled appearance, and he was even more pleased that the man had thought of him.

“Thank you,” Link said.

“I will be headed to my cabin for the night. It lies directly south of the Goddess Hylia, who you no doubt saw during your exploration of the Temple. You are welcome to stay with me, though I sense your desire for answers will keep you out late into the night.” The old man smiled knowingly. “Be careful. The bokoblins roam in bands, and they are emboldened at night.

The old man looked over Link’s shoulder briefly. “They do not dare enter the sanctuary of the Goddess. If you cannot make the trek to my cabin, you may wish to camp here. Good night.”

Link understood that he was dismissed, and he set off at a jog toward the rock formation the old man had mentioned. He could see a campfire in the darkness between him and his goal, but he figured he could skirt around them for now. His appetite had vanished, though his fatigue remained, He would find a meal of apples or something later.

He reached the hill without incident and indeed found a pedestal waiting for him. It lit up as he approached, Shiekah Slate drawn. There was a slot waiting for it. It clicked right into place, and the whole pedestal shone radiantly on his face.

Words appeared on the Slate: _Shiekah Tower activated. Please watch for falling rocks._

The light turned blue, as he expected it to—and then the earth rocked beneath him. He could hear bokoblins screaming in the distance, and birds squawking as they were disturbed from their roosts. He did not see them because he had lost his footing and become pinned to the floor of the tower as it shot upward into the sky.

When the world had stopped shaking so, Link stood and looked out across the nighttime kingdom. He could see towers everywhere, it seemed; they all glowed orange, waiting for activation.

_User input required. User input required._

The gentle beeping brought him back to the Slate in the pedestal. _Distill regional information?_ it prompted.

He pressed the _yes_ button and looked up as the stone fixture above him glowed bright blue. The eye that was painted on it was incomplete, he noticed: it had no tear.

And then it did. The fat droplet of blue hung precariously beneath the eye and dropped down onto the face of the Slate with a splash that startled Link.

_Regional map extracted._

The Slate popped back up from the interface, and Link took it to examine the map more closely. He could see a yellow spot that he assumed was his position, and it rested on a blue symbol labeled Great Plateau Tower. If he tapped the screen, the map enlarged enough for him to see the topography of the region and the names of landmarks: _Eastern Abbey. Temple of Time._

He retraced his path and found that it originated from the only other blue spot on the map. Its name sent a chill down Link’s spine. _Who awakens from a Shrine of Resurrection?_

 _Remember_ … Link turned as the woman called to him again. _Try…try to remember…_

Her voice drew him to the castle, and he saw a golden light shining forth from its center. He ran to the edge of the Tower as though that would bring him closer to her, to ease the strain in her voice. As he gazed upon it, the earth trembled again and he nearly toppled from the precipice; her light was obscured by a mass of black and violet smoke.

_You have been asleep for the past 100 years. The beast—!_

It emerged from the smoke, but it was the smoke, too. Link could hear its roar even from where he stood, and it obscured the voice of the woman who spoke to him. He strained his ears to hear her, though it was not his ears that heard her.

_When the beast regains its true power, this world will face its end. You must hurry, Link. Before it’s too late…_


	3. The Bomb Trial.

The woman, the light, and the beast were gone, though the smoke around the castle remained. The woman’s voice had been urgent, but Link could not move for a while. He stared at the castle as he pieced together the consequences of his day.

He had been asleep in the Shrine of Resurrection for 100 years.

That meant when Hyrule fell, he had fallen, too.

Had he fallen to that monster in the castle? The woman—cosmic entity—disembodied voice—had given him the injunctive to save Hyrule, the world, even, from it. Had he already tried, and had he failed?

There was an immense weight upon his shoulders as he slowly made his way down the tower. He alternated hopping from platform to platform and simply scaling the tower’s ladder-like sides. He did not know what he would do when he reached the ground. Fortunately, he didn’t have to make a decision himself.

Three bokoblins awaited him at the base of the tower. Two were red, like the first one he had met that afternoon. They bore a club and a bow respectively. The third, seemingly their leader, was blue and wielded a decidedly unrusty sword and simple shield. All of them had red eyes that shone in the dark.

Link was glad for the distraction.

He exerted himself fully as he dispatched them with his stolen club and made sure to restock his quiver of arrows before he left their corpses. His new sword was light and short, but it was much better than either the club or the axe he had wielded previously. He kept the axe but, for lack of carrying capacity, discarded the club.

He liked the sound of his axe clinking against the shield on his back. He felt more at ease than he had since the moment he woke; it was right, wearing a shield and sword again.

Again.

Link resolved not to think about that right now.

He traveled south as the old man had suggested, but he held to the edge of the Plateau. He had seen something from the top of the tower that he wanted to investigate, and it seemed as though it was on the way.

He had to pass a bokoblin encampment—how did they have enough sense of style to _build skull houses?_ —but managed to slip by without incident. He found a small pool of water nearby filled with fish, and he stood in the cool shallows for a while waiting for some to swim past. Laden with fresh spoils, he continued onward.

He followed the wall of the Plateau until he reached what the Slate told him was the Eastern Abbey. It was in ruins, like everything seemed to be in Hyrule, and it was _filled_ with the strange Sheikah statues that had terrified him near the Temple of Time. His skin crawled with the feeling that their eyes watched him in the dark.

He avoided them by taking the more arduous path across the top of the wall. In some places, it was so damaged that it created small cliffs for him to crest; as he had discovered earlier, climbing came easily to him, and the route kept him away from those statues, so he was happy. Eventually, he came to the top of a rampart and found himself gazing down on the structure he had seen from the top of the tower. Its amber inlays glowed bright through the murk of night.

Before he could move to climb down from his perch to go inspect the thing, he heard a deep, echoing clang to his right. He spun around and froze as one of the Sheikah statues that stuck out of the ground began to move: its head broke free from the crust of antiquity and swiveled so that its giant, blue eye was staring right at him.

Though its eye was blue, the rest of it glowed the same kind of red as the beast that surrounded the castle, and as its eye locked on to him, a red beam of light locked on to him as well. Link stumbled and fell off of the rampart in his hurry to get away. He managed to twist himself quite painfully as he landed, but it put a wall between himself and the terrible machine. He could hear it beeping menacingly, gears whirring as it swiveled about in search of him.

Link _crawled_ on his belly to reach the pedestal he had seen on the other side of the orange structure, and he hardly dared to stand to press the Slate against the face of the pedestal. When he pulled the Slate away, he saw that it now read _Ja Baij Shrine: Travel Gate Registered._ The circular pattern in the stone beneath his feet lit up with the blue Sheikah light.

The door pulled apart like a lattice unraveling, and he entered the alcove it revealed. A smaller circle glowed under his feet, and as he stood there, wondering what he should do, it began to sink.

It took him first through a stone chute, and then—more miraculously—he descended through a channel of light. He looked out over an immense room with a ceiling that seemed to be made of glass. Something as bright as daylight poured down from above him, though that was impossible. The platform came to a halt and left him facing a large, cracked wall of stone. To the left was another Sheikah pedestal like the one at the top of the Tower.

He stepped off of the platform and, somewhere, a bell tolled.

_To you who sets foot in this shrine… I am Ja Baij. In the name of the Goddess Hylia, I offer this trial._

The voice intoned straight into his mind, much as the woman’s had. It seemed to have no source, and its ominous ring sent a chill down Link’s spine. He walked over to the pedestal and activated it. The Slate distilled a rune this time, and when he examined it, the screen displayed two symbols, a circle and a square, that were labeled as remote bombs. He read the description carefully and received the Slate back from the pedestal.

He could guess what he was intended to do. Somehow, he was supposed to use the Slate to control bombs to clear the crumbling rubble from his path—but where were the bombs?

Link decided to press the icons on the Slate anyway. He stood before the wall he was to destroy and pressed the round blue button. Before his very eyes, blue fire coalesced into an orb right in front of him, and he had to catch it in his arms before it fell. Gingerly, he set it on the ground to examine but found no pins to pull nor fuses to light. He stood again, but as he released it the ball began to roll down toward the wall. It came to a stop just before touching the stone,

He pressed the icon again on the Sheikah Slate, but he was not prepared for the concussive blast that followed. He was unharmed, but the force of it was enough to make him stagger.

With his path cleared, Link hurried into the next chamber and found that there were two routes, each sealed like the first.

This time he tried a square bomb, and he was quite pleased with himself when he found a chest waiting for him on the other side. There was no lock on this chest, only the Sheikah eye, and when he neared it with his Slate, the chest sprung open. Inside was a long, heavy sword.

He knew that it was a claymore, a two-handed weapon. He was less excited about that. How was he meant to carry a claymore, an axe, and a shield all at once? He left the claymore and ventured in the opposite direction. This route led him to another moving platform, which he threw a square bomb on. It blasted apart the wall that blocked him, and he rode the platform to the other side of the pit.

_Another puzzle._

He had to admit that he enjoyed this, though he was exhausted from the day. There seemed to be no danger here in Ja Baij’s Shrine, and the cunning he needed to solve this puzzle was an exercise indeed.

He spotted another treasure chest and, using the volley system set up on his left, vaulted over to it. He landed more gracefully than he’d expected of himself, laden down with his weaponry and meals. This chest, when opened, presented him with a small fragment of amber. Perhaps it had some value to it. Regardless, it was small enough to fit in his pocket.

He returned to the right side of the shrine where a chute awaited his bombing. He chose a round bomb and made quick work of the barrier across the way. When he had finally crossed the pit and reached the end of the shrine, he was ready to collapse with fatigue—but his heart pounded with excitement that would not abate.

The monk sat within a box of blue light that coursed and danced before Link’s eyes. He approached the monk and examined him closely without touching the barrier, amazed at the mummy and its strange outfit.

Finally, he raised his hand to see if he could touch the surface of the box, or if he’d pass right through—and it shattered. The fragments felt like cool rainwater against his face, though he remained dry.

He was suddenly presented with the monk, whose voice was louder now.

_Your resourcefulness in overcoming this trial speaks to the promise of a hero… In the name of the Goddess Hylia, I bestow upon you this spirit orb._

The mummy never moved, and yet Link felt it reach inside of itself to present his gift. The orb glowed brightly as it passed out of the monk’s chest and entered Link’s; the sensation was firm and warm and fulfilling. He covered his heart with one hand and looked back at the monk in amazement.

 _May the Goddess smile upon you,_ Ja Baij said in parting. Then, the monk’s corporeal form disintegrated into light particles and floated away on the wind.

 

“My, my,.. It would seem we have quite the enigma here.”

The old man had waited up for him, it seemed. Link didn’t want to waste any time discussing his day’s adventure; he just wanted to sleep, and the sight of a well-made bed through the door to the man’s cabin had intensified his need to rest.

The old man rose as quickly as he could. “Let me take these from you. I’ll prepare a meal and have it waiting for you when you wake.”

Link could not find his voice to thank him, but he gratefully handed over the fish he had caught and went inside the cabin.

He slept fitfully and woke often. It was never long before he drifted back to sleep, but the cycle felt endless and exhausting. He dreamed of the first bokoblin he’d faced and the look in its blue eyes as it exhaled its putrid, dying breath in his face. He dreamed of voices calling to him by names that were his name, but not his name. And he dreamed of dying. When he woke, Link couldn’t remember the names, the voices, or the ways he died. He was left with only a terrible feeling ache in his chest.

It was late afternoon again when he ultimately got out of bed. He felt much better but still ached. His muscles were sore from climbing and falling and fighting. His heart ached from something else.

Through the doorway, he could spy the old man in the distance, swinging an axe at a tall birch tree. Link checked and found, as the man had promised, a meal prepared for him and left on the table. It had been wrapped in some sort of large leaf to keep it fresh and warm.

Link scarfed down the roasted fish and picked the bones clean. Once he’d wiped his hands clean, he turned to the book on the table beside him that had caught his attention. It was the old man’s diary.

Link was quite disappointed that the diary was solely concerned with the old man’s cooking. He detailed many recipes that he’d come up with on the Plateau, though the last several entries indicated that he’d forgotten one particular recipe that bothered him to no end. Link couldn’t understand why the old man was having such a hard time figuring out what went into a _spicy meat and seafood fry:_ spice, meat, and fish, obviously.

If it weren’t rude to read someone’s diary without permission, Link would have walked right up to the old man and told him so. Instead, Link put on his boots and went to meet the old man to ask him some questions.

 

“It’s almost as though… a long-dormant power has awoken quite suddenly.” The old man spoke between swings of the axe. “If you do not mind me asking… Did anything…odd occur while you were atop that tower?”

The old man, mercifully, continued to swing his axe as Link debated telling him the truth. Link didn’t think he would be able to lie to the man’s face. Ultimately, however, he told the man: “I heard a voice.”

“Did you happen to recognize it?” This time, the old man turned to look at him. He rested his arms heavily on his axe and sweat dripped from his large nose, though he did not seem inclined to remove his hood and allow the breeze to cool him.

Link was silent, but he knew the man understood.

“Well, the machines that you passed on your way through the Eastern Abbey have been called Guardians, though what they guard now, I cannot imagine. They shoot powerful beams from their single eye that can burn a hole through a horse in an instant; the destruction you may see across the Plateau and indeed all of Hyrule is because of those horrible creations.” The old man sighed heavily. “I assume from your perch you caught sight of the atrocity surrounding the castle?”

Link nodded.

“That…is Calamity Ganon. One hundred years ago, that vile entity brought the kingdom of Hyrule to ruin. It appeared suddenly and destroyed everything in its path. So many innocent lives were lost in its wake. For years, the very symbol of our kingdom, Hyrule Castle, has held that abomination at bay, but it seems that may soon change.”

Link looked out in the direction he knew the castle to be, though he could not see it from this distance. “That’s what she told me,” he said.

“I must ask you, Courageous One… Do you intend to make your way to the castle?”

Link did not move. The moment stretched thin.

“If you intend to leave this isolated plateau, you will need a paraglider. Scaling the plateau walls is a long and arduous task even the most skilled free climbers would not take on, and great ravines surround us here. I have no intention of leaving the Great Plateau while I live, and I would be happy to give it to you. But not for nothing.”

Now, Link turned back to the old man. There was a small smile peeking out from his beard. “Be certain of the path you choose, Link.”


	4. The Legend of Zelda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and for the kudos! I'm so happy that someone else is able to enjoy this project I began only for myself. I hope that you continue to follow along...we have a long way to go.
> 
> I'm new to AO3, so I'd love to hear your feedback or even just your favorite moments from BOTW. You'll be seeing some of mine, most of which are the little details that struck me as I explored aimlessly between quests. Please leave a comment!
> 
> Enjoy.

They returned to the old man’s cabin and sat by the fire. Link examined his Sheikah Slate in silence, and the old man whittled. A new blue icon had appeared on the map: _Ja Baij Shrine, Bomb Trial._ Beneath the label was the option to _Travel_.

“Who are the Sheikah?” Link asked the old man.

“They are a mysterious and secretive tribe who once inhabited these lands. The great power of their wisdom saved this kingdom time and time again. They are the chosen protectors of the Goddess Hylia and her mortal incarnations. They work in the shadows and are renowned for their stealth, honor, and shadow magic.” The old man set down his tools and nodded at the Sheikah Slate. “No one knows how their ancient technology works, but it is believed to have all been created to protect the Goddess and defeat her greatest foe: Ganon.”

Link turned the slate over in his hands and looked intently at the Sheikah eye on its back. “Who is the Goddess?”

The old man laughed abruptly, and Link felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to give me a catechism class.”

“No, no,” the old man said. “I am more than happy to help you in any way that I can, and it is tradition to tell these stories ‘round campfires. You are new to this world, it seems, so I will tell you the story of how it was created…and we can go from there.”

 

Hyrule was formed many ages ago by three beings known as the Golden Goddesses, Din, Nayru, and Farore. They are the incarnations of Power, Wisdom, and Courage.  
Before any life existed, Din cultivated the land and created the red earth of Hyrule. Nayru gave the spirit of Law to the world, bringing order to the land. Farore, with great courage, created all life forms that would uphold the law. Their work complete, they left behind a symbol of their power.

The Triforce was trusted to the woman Hylia for protection, but as you can imagine, many sought it over the ages. None desired it more than the Demon King who desired to make the Goddess’ creation his own.

Hylia, seeking to protect her people, sent them to the Heavens while evil plagued the land below. She hid the three pieces of the Triforce and returned to the earth to defeat the Demon King. Legend says that she suffered grave injuries in her battle, though she was ultimately triumphant. Before she succumbed to her wounds, Hylia left her sword behind for a worthy hero to find. She knew that a day might come when the Demon King would try to steal the Triforce once more.

The Golden Goddesses saved Hylia’s immortal soul and gave her new life as a young girl. She was unaware of her identity and lived in the sky for many years of peace. Then, just as she herself had predicted, a man who wanted to become the Demon Lord kidnapped the mortal Hylia and brought her down from the sky in an attempt to find the pieces of the Triforce.

Separated from its master, the Goddess Sword called out for a hero. Chosen by the Goddess of Courage, Farore’s Champion sought out the Goddess Sword and vanquished the Demon Lord—but not before he, with the power of the Demon King Demise behind him, cursed Hylia and her Hero thusly:

His hatred would be reborn as a being whose hunger for power would last eternal, and the Goddess and the spirit of the Hero would be reborn to fight it in a cycle without end.

Ages passed, and the cycle of rebirth continued. Hylia’s people, from whom the Hero is chosen, descended from the Heavens and called the land below Hyrule. Our ears are pointed to hear the messages of the gods, and magic flows in our blood. The Hylian Royal Family are her descendants, and it is to them that she is born.

We have many legendary tales that I could tell, but they do not matter. The Sword, the Goddess, and their Hero have protected the land and the Triforce from Ganon for thousands and thousands of years. At times, the Hero has fallen, but he has never failed.

 

Link stared intently at the Sheikah Slate, though his eyes did not see. As his thoughts reeled, he ran his thumbs over the smooth screen.

The world fell apart.

One moment, Link was sitting across the fire from the old man, and the next he was going _nowhere, fast._ He saw nothing but blue light, like sky, and he felt nothing but speed. He felt like he was perpetually falling, and when he rematerialized in the Shrine of Resurrection it was as jarring as if he had hit a physical wall.

Then his feet touched the ground.

Link stumbled but did not fall. He looked around incredulously, then down at the Slate. So that’s what _Travel_ meant.

He examined himself thoroughly but determined that he was entirely unharmed by the process. He tried tapping the place on the map where he knew the old man’s cabin to be, but no options came up no matter how close he zoomed in. He would simply have to walk back using his own two feet.

Another time, perhaps. Link was dizzy from more than his strange journey—he had not finished processing the old man’s story. _Hyrule’s_ story.

 _His_ story.

None of it sounded familiar. The names meant nothing to him, not Hylia, Hyrule, Ganon, Sheikah… But _Link_ felt right. That was his name, he was certain of it.

He wished that the woman would call to him again. He had felt so calmed by her voice when she said his name. _Please, tell me again,_ he pleaded. _What am I supposed to do?_

Link sat on the edge of the basin he had woken in just the day previous. The basin he’d slept in for a hundred years. No matter how hard he concentrated, he could not remember how he came to the Shrine. He could not remember who he was, what it meant to be Link.

He put his head in his hands and let his long hair shroud him from the watching eyes around him. His thoughts whirred uselessly for a moment, and then something occurred to him.

He could decide. He could decide what it meant. Decide who he was. Maybe one day he would discover who he had been, but he would simply be spinning his wheels uselessly if he were to try and figure that out now. Chances were, the secrets were not hidden on the Great Plateau. They were out in Hyrule.

In the meantime, he had a blank slate on which to write his future.

Eventually, Link left the crypt and ventured down to the pond in which he had found the rusty sword and the little creature who judged his diving. He was surprised to find the little creature still floating around its ring of lily pads, but it just giggled and watched him as he caught some more fish.

He had heard pigs—real pigs, not bokoblins—in the forest below the Shrine of Resurrection, and he ventured there to hunt. He was a quick shot; the motions of nocking arrows and drawing the bowstring back came as easily to him as breathing, and his arrows struck true. He found that he knew how to prepare cuts of boar, though the work was more difficult with only a sword to help him.

He made his way back to the old man’s cabin and picked peppers from a bush along the way. They were sundried and shiny, and a small nibble revealed that they were quite potent as well.

He found the cabin empty, though the fire was still going. He lifted the cooking pot into place and got to work.

 

The old man returned just as he finished, and Link felt warmed by the look of delight that crossed his companion’s face. “Why, it smells just like a dish I once had!” the old man proclaimed. He took a bite from the plate that Link offered him and made another delighted noise. “Ah! It could keep me warm at the top of Mount Hylia with that spice!”

Link allowed himself to smile as the old man sat beside the fire. He didn’t know where to begin, but the old man seemed to be in a talkative mood. “You know, you won’t stand long out in the elements with just those clothes. Certain ingredients will help you, like those spicy peppers, but only for so long. I’d be happy to lend you my warm doublet if you tell me where you found the pepper bush! I seem to have lost it in my memory.”

Link told him about the gate directly west of the Temple of Time, and the old man took one last bite of his meal before going to fetch his warm doublet as promised. Link was grateful for it. As he held it in his hands, he sought the old man’s gaze but didn’t know how to thank him. Instead, he told him earnestly, “I will go to the castle.”

The old man raised his eyebrows, but he said nothing as he returned to the fireside. Link had nothing else to say, so he sat in silence and watched the old man eat. A long time passed before the old man’s voice interrupted the chirping of crickets around them. “It is a much more dangerous world outside the walls of the Plateau. Here, we need only worry about minor bokoblins. What lurks beyond… You will need more than just a traveler’s sword and shield.”

He reached behind him for his satchel and held it out to Link. “Long ago, this was enchanted by a spirit of the Hyrule Forest, Hestu, to hold whatever I needed it to. I can fit a whole axe in there—or three. It will serve you better than this old man, I can tell you that.”

Link was speechless. He opened the bag and found several mushrooms and a braided chain of daisies. When he tested the old man’s claim, he found that the satchel did hold a whole axe, and a shield, and a bow without feeling heavier than it had in the first place. “I met some—thing that mentioned Hestu. It gave me this.” Link held the seed in the palm of his hand for the old man to see.

“A Korok.” The old man’s eyebrows shot up once more. “My, Link, you are special indeed if you can see the little forest spirits.”

The boy dropped his gaze and stared into the fire. _The promise of a hero…_

“Before I give you my paraglider, I think it best for you to seek out the three other shrines, as you called them. In my time here I have seen two in these snowy mountains and one more near the northernmost edge of the plateau.” The old man had finished his meal, and he stood to return to the cabin. “They were made for you, Courageous One.”

Those words were meant kindly and were said with great warmth, but Link still felt a chill run down his spine despite the fire beside him.

 

Link made short work of the nearest shrine and soon found himself standing before Owa Daim. When the monk spoke, he heard the same bell toll as in the Ja Baij shrine.

_You have proven to possess the resolve of a true hero._

_I am Owa Daim, the creator of this trial. I am a humble monk, blessed with the sight of Goddess Hylia and dedicated to helping those who seek to defeat Ganon._ _With your arrival and the courage ignited in your heart, my duty is now fulfilled._

_In the name of the Goddess Hylia, allow me to bestow upon you this gift… Please accept this spirit orb, and may the goddess forever smile upon you._

Link stood contemplating the empty space the monk had left behind for a long moment. Owa Daim was much more talkative than Ja Baij, and maybe that wasn’t a good thing. The monks could see something in him that he could not: courage, dedication. Maybe he could accept the dedication, for he had certainly _decided_ that he would at least try to…face Ganon, at least. Link didn't think that counted as a particularly courageous decision, and he certainly didn't like wearing the title the old man had given him: courageous one. He had done nothing to deserve it.

Solving puzzles took resolve, sure, but it was mostly cunning, and before he had even found the Shrines, all he had done was wake up and walk out of a cave. Real courage was charging headfirst into any battle with evil, not skulking around it to avoid a fight. Courage was stealing the old man’s paraglider and heading straight for the castle.

Link was absolutely not about to do that.

What was he _really_ going to do when he got the paraglider?

Link was unable to come up with an answer even as he trekked through the snowy peaks of Mount Hyllia. He had discovered, as he climbed to Owa Daim’s shrine, that the Sheikah Slate vibrated when he approached the general vicinity of a shrine, and he hoped that by following the perimeter of the Great Plateau he would at least find the direction he was meant to go in.

As he passed under what the map told him was the peak of Mount Hylia, he spotted something. There was a convenient path up the peak, either carved purposefully by ancient craftsmen or worn smooth by pilgrims to the cairn at the peak. At least, that’s what Link thought it must be.

He approached it cautiously, uncertain whether something would jump at him from beneath or behind it—even a little Korok would have startled him enough to fall off the cliff. Though not a soul stirred there on the lonely mountain top, Link felt just as he had in the Temple of Time: as though someone, a friendly presence, watched over him. Flecks of snow hit his face, so cold that they felt like cinders, but he found that he did not want to move from that presence.

He knelt by the cairn and saw pieces of amber wedged between the rocks. He considered taking them, but after a brief moment he instead reached in to his pocket and added his own small piece of amber to the offerings. It felt right.

When Link finally made his way down the peak once more, he felt refreshed by more than just the cold air or the brisk climb. He walked in silence with only the whispering Hylian winds for company for a long time before he finally saw another living thing. It was a large, bat-like creature with a single, terrible eye. Its white, scaly skin blended in with the snowfall, so that he almost did not see it approach. Its blood-curdling shrieks alerted him quickly to its presence, however.

He didn’t dare let it get close to him, so he drew his bow and fired a single shot. To his utter surprise, the bat burst into powder upon impact. The eye—frozen solid—rolled down the snowbank to land at his feet. Link was too disgusted to touch it, and he hurried on to what he had seen from the top of Mount Hylia: another shrine located at the top of a waterfall to his north.

He made quick work of the first half of Keh Namut’s shrine, but soon he came face to face with a Guardian.

Well, it wasn’t a Guardian; it was much, much smaller, but it was still as tall as he was, and it scuttled in the most terrifying way when it caught sight of him. His first instinct was to run, but this was the Cryonis Trial. This was part of the Trial—a test.

He raised three blocks of ice around the killing machine and pinned it against the wall. He could hear its laser blasts uselessly firing against the ice, but the blocks showed no sign of cracking. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to risk them breaking, and he climbed to the top and took aim with his bow.

The small Guardian looked up at him with its great eye and prepared to fire, but Link was quicker. A dead shot to the eye was all it took for the machine to explode into smithereens. All that was left undamaged by the blast was a single screw.

He passed by a chest high on a platform and found that it held a spear. He was grateful for a ranged weapon, for arrows were in short supply.

Keh Namut awaited him at the end of the Trial. Unlike the others, he had little to say to Link:

_Your triumph over this test subverts a prophecy of ruin. From the ashes of Hyrule, a hero rises._

With that, Keh Namut pushed the Spirit Orb into Link’s chest and, like his brother monks, faded away into the aura.


	5. The Promise of a Hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S A PUN, DON'T YOU REALIZE?

Link left the Shrine so deep in thought that he didn’t notice the skeletons until it was too late to run. They had assembled themselves from the ground and found weapons, and they were taking aim at him.

Link quickly grabbed his club from his satchel and raised his shield to catch an arrow before it hit his head. The movement was instinctual, as was the leap he took toward one of the skeletons. He could tell it had once been a bokoblin from the point on its head and the sharp little fangs that remained in its mouth, but he didn’t have long to observe. He knocked the skull right from one skeleton’s shoulders and whipped around to face the next.

When he took a swing at this one, the skull went _flying_ off the edge of the cliff in the most satisfying arc, and the skeleton it left behind crumbled into dust and smoke. The other skeleton, however, had crawled around blindly and found its skull, which it replaced backwards on its neck.

Link dispatched it again and punted the chattering skull off the cliff like the first.

 _That wasn’t fair,_ he thought as he made his way down the cliff. _How am I supposed to sleep at night if all my enemies come back to kill me as soon as the moon rises?_

 

He heard the horns blaring before he knew where they came from. He soon discovered that it was from the far corner of the crag to his right, where a skull bokoblin base was nestled. Link’s footsteps were heavy, tangled by the long, dry grass, and he knew he would soon be surrounded and outnumbered.

A small fire had been dug out at the mouth of the cave, likely for some sentry who had returned to base. Link hurried to it and knocked an arrow as quickly as he could, and he took aim for the sliver of sky that appeared between the edges of the canyon.

The arrow flew through the fire and followed an arc that landed in the grass right before the mouth of the canyon. The wind rose just at that moment and gave the fire the fuel it needed to catch.

Link watched with a growing sense of grim horror as the bokoblins rushed back to their skull for shelter amid the roaring wildfire. But before he could feel true remorse, the skull _exploded_. Barrels of toxic fuel exploded with loud bangs and covered the bokoblins in fire that would not go out. They perished there amid their own explosives.

He again hugged the wall of the Great Plateau as he searched for another shrine. This time he found it within view of the Great Plateau Tower and the Temple of Time. There was a bog nearby, and at its center were two treasure chests on a terribly precarious wooden platform. A thought occurred to him.

Link ran over to the bog and activated Cryonis. To his delight, the Slate seemed to think that the bog had enough water in it to form ice blocks. With a carefully made pathway, Link managed to reach the moldy trunks and found two bundles of arrows. One was warm to the touch and smelled vaguely of smoke; the other was tipped with ice. He stuffed the bundles carefully into his quiver and returned to the Shrine.

 

Oman Au waited for him to complete the Magnesis trial and bestowed upon him a fourth Spirit Orb. As he left the mortal plane, he gave Link one last piece of information:

_Your dedication will be rewarded by the Goddess Hylia._

Link found the old man waiting for him outside the shrine. “I saw the lights on this shrine change from orange to blue, so I assumed you were inside. How goes your quest?”

“I met four,” Link said. “They taught me how to use the Slate some more—you wouldn’t believe what it can—”

The old man held up his hand. “Forgive me, Link. You have passed the four trials that awaited the awakened Hero on the Plateau… and that means it is finally time.”

Link’s jaw hung open as the old man faded into the aura just as the monks had. _Meet me at the center of the shrines… Find me where they meet._

“No,” Link said. “No. This isn’t happening.”

Whatever pleasure he had gained from completing so many puzzles in a row was gone; instead, he was filled with a desperate feeling. He felt like he had been betrayed. The old man—of course he was involved in this mess, Link’s _destiny_.

Link refused. He fisted his fingers in his hair and ground his teeth, trying to fight back tears. Though he did not allow them to fall, his knees gave way and he sat, bowed over the travel gate of the shrine, until the sun began to peek over the horizon.

He pressed his face into his hands and closed his eyes. He had spent a whole day and night traveling the Great Plateau, finding those shrines. He had felt _smart_ when he passed their trials, and proud of his resourcefulness. Never once had he felt courageous, and he certainly had no courage in him now.

 

Link didn’t know where to go except _there_. A light rain had begun to fall on him at the shrine, and she was the closest, safest recourse from the elements. He did not sit in the alcove, however, or find a sheltered, hidden cranny to wait out the weather. He went instead to her feet and sat before the small winged attendants on the dais.

“I’m afraid,” he told her softly. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to be the Hero you—they—she needs me to be.”

_Courage, Dear One._

Warmth settled around his shoulders like a blanket, and the sense of familiar company filled him as it had on the peak of Mount Hylia. Link looked up at the statue of the Goddess and found it illuminated in radiant light. It was transformed from the weathered, almost crude suggestion of a woman; it stood as though freshly installed. He knew this wasn’t what _Hylia_ looked like, but it was meant to capture the warmth, sweetness, and protection she offered her people, and it did.

_You who have conquered four shrines and claimed their Spirit Orbs, I can bestow upon you great strength and stamina. What do you require?_

Link climbed to his feet to gaze into her eyes. _I want direction._ “I will need strength for the journey.”

_I will give you strength. Now, go. Bring peace to Hyrule._

Then, she was gone.

 

Link finally got to climb the bell tower. He could see the old man waiting for him as soon as he reached the top of the roof, but Link took his time walking the single central beam toward the bell tower. The wood was slick with water and moss, and though the rain had died down, the wind was starting to pick up.

The old man was surrounded by strange, green flames. “The time has come to show you who I truly am, young one,” he said. “I was King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule. I was… the last King of Hyrule, a kingdom that no longer exists.”

Now that the truth was out, the enchantment faded from Link’s gaze and the King, not the old man, stood before him. Link felt a tug at the back of his spine but fought the urge to kneel. This man was dead, and in his own words had no kingdom to be King of.

“The Great Calamity was merciless,” Rhoam said. His voice was the same as the old man’s: a low rumble that verged on a growl. “It devastated everything in its path a century ago. Since that time, here I have remained in spirit form.” Rhoam’s spirit floated over to the gaping hole in the bell tower’s northern side and gazed out upon the castle. Link’s hardened stare bored into his back. “I did not think it wise to overwhelm you while your memory was still fragile. Forgive me for the deception.” Rhoam looked over his shoulder at Link, and the remorse in his eyes was true. “I see now that you have been ready. Ready to hear what happened one hundred years ago.”

Link joined the ghost at the lookout; the smoke around the castle churned more than ever as the Beast fought to escape. “The demon king was born into this kingdom,” Rhoam said. “He long sought the power of the Triforce to make the world his own. Stories of Ganon were passed from generation to generation in the form of legends and fairy tales. But there was also a prophecy. It was given to me as a young man: _The signs of a resurrection of Calamity Ganon are clear, and the power to oppose it lies deep underground._ I married a Queen with the blood of the Goddess, and together we heeded the prophecy. Our people began to excavate, and it wasn’t long before we discovered several ancient machines made by our distant ancestors… The Guardians you have encountered were part of this discovery—but they do not compare to the might of the Divine Beasts.”

Rhoam pointed to something Link had not noticed, for it was high in the sky to the northwest: a giant bird with stationary wings so immense they could have swept away the Castle in the blink of an eye. ”Their presence coincided with the words of the prophecy, and of our ancient legends. They also spoke of a princess with a sacred power and her appointed knight, chosen by the sword that seals the darkness.”

Ice shot through Link’s veins; his fingers tingled with numbness. He clenched his fists to hide their shaking.

“Ten thousand years ago, it was they who sealed Ganon away using the power of these ancient relics. One hundred years ago, there was a princess set to inherit a sacred power and a skilled knight at her side. We were set to follow in our ancestors’ footsteps, so we selected four skilled individuals from across Hyrule and tasked them with the duty of piloting the Divine Beasts. With the princess as their commander, we dubbed these pilots Champions, a name that would solidify their bond.”

Rhoam’s gaze had dropped from above to the ruined Guardians below. “The princess, her appointed knight, and the rest of the Champions were on the verge of discovering how to seal away Ganon before he woke… but nay… Ganon was cunning. He had spent his long exile from this world developing a plan of wicked cunning. His Malice infected the Guardians and Divine Beasts we had believed to be our protectors, and he turned them against us. The Champions lost their lives, and all those in the Castle—but the knight escorted the princess through the violence. He nearly made it to safety when he was gravely wounded… He collapsed while defending the princess. And thus, the kingdom of Hyrule fell to Calamity Ganon…”

There were tears in Link’s eyes. He had known this to be true, but to hear that he _had_ failed in his duty—

“But… the princess survived, and she returned to the castle to face Ganon alone. That princess was my own daughter. My dear, brave Zelda. And the courageous knight who protected her right up to the very end… That knight was none other than you, Link.”

King Rhoam turned to Link, and for a moment he seemed that he might reach out to brace him, for Link seemed about to fall. But the King did not move. “You fought bravely to the very end, Link. You fulfilled your duty, and you were taken to the Shrine of Resurrection. Here you now stand revitalized, one hundred years later. The voice you have heard guiding you—it is Zelda. Even now, as she strains her spirit to hold Ganon within Hyrule Castle, she calls out to you.”`

King Rhoam gazed down at Link and a deep sorrow passed across his face. “She has waited long, Link, but she has never lost faith… Considering that it was my own actions that doomed Hyrule, I have no right to ask this of you, but I am powerless here. You must save her… my daughter. Do whatever it takes.”

For a breathless moment, both men had tears in their eyes as they regarded one another. Finally, Link sank to his knees, and Rhoam turned his back on the boy to gaze out at the castle once more. “It would be foolish to head directly to the castle, courageous one. I suggest… that you make your way east, out to one of the villages in the wilderness. Follow the road as it passes between the Dueling Peaks, then proceed north…to Kakariko Village. There you will find Impa, the elder. She will tell you more about the path that awaits you.”

Rhoam did not turn back to Link, but he nodded to the corner nearest him. “My paraglider is there, as promised. The cabin was real, too, and though you should not tarry long here, it may still be of service to you. Now… go, and save my daughter.”

 

Link ventured to the old man’s cabin by paraglider and found that flying was a joy. He would need to find a tie for his hair, for it flew into his eyes and became a tangled mess within moments, but he was loathe to cut it.

He found twine in the old man’s cabin, a handful of peppers, and a pot of dried mushrooms. All of that went into his bottomless satchel, and he braided the hair around the sides of his face back with the twine. He was determined to sleep through the night, but night was a long way off. He certainly didn’t feel quite up to processing what had happened that day, so in the meantime he decided to read the diary that remained, tantalizingly, open on the table.

There was a new entry.

_Link... Bit by bit, you may come to realize who I am. I am sorry for not revealing my true identity to you sooner. The truth is, after you awoke from your long Slumber of Restoration, I did not know how to tell you all there was to say._

_Perhaps deceiving you was not the right thing to do. Still...you must admit I put on a great performance! But all joking aside...what I ask of you is of the utmost importance, dear Hero. I implore you, with all my heart... defeat Calamity Ganon and save my precious daughter, Zelda. I understand this is no simple task I am asking of you, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can do it. I do not doubt it for a moment. I see courage in your eyes, just as I did 100 years ago. I believe in you, Link, and most of all,_ she _believes in you_.

Link closed the book and held it close to his chest. He needed something to anchor him, for he felt that he might fall apart at any moment. He was the Hero of Hylia, the appointed knight of Princess Zelda—and her only hope. He had not failed her: she was alive thanks to him. He had fulfilled his duty, but he was not absolved of it.

He sat on the bed and doubled over, pressed his forehead to his knees with the King’s journal still hugged tightly to his chest like a life preserver. He had spoken to a Goddess today, and to a ghost. Was this the life that he had lived, _before_? Had he learned to live with this burden, as he must now? Or had he always known that he was the Hero, always seen little forest spirits, always walked with spirits at his side and a sacred duty hanging over his head?

 

The night was chilly, and the wind that had picked up that morning now howled at the doorway. Link lay in bed with his sword unsheathed at his side, ready for intruders in the night. Though exhaustion swept over him, Link found that his thoughts ran wild.

He thought of the princess. The woman whose voice, whose _light_ had called him back from the brink of death. She had the blood of the Goddess in her veins, but she _was_ the Goddess, too. When did she know that that was her destiny? Her father had always known, it seemed, so maybe she had, too.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture her. She had been so important to him—his charge, his Commander—but her face was lost to him. Even the exact sound of her voice eluded him, though her presence was familiar to his mind, and he felt lost now without it.

_Zelda._

Link exhaled heavily and furrowed his brow as he concentrated.

_I will not fail you._


	6. Dueling Peaks.

Link wished he knew how long he had until the princess’s strength ran out. He could not help but feel as he climbed back up to the bell tower, that he should have set out immediately upon receipt of his quest.

He used the scope of the Sheikah Slate to find the Dueling Peaks that Rhoam had ordered him to pass. He found that a Tower lay along the road he must take, and he set down a glowing Waypoint to guide his path.

Then, Link jumped.

His new bow, found at the top of the bell tower, tapped the back of his legs as he flew and rattled against the scarred boko shield he’d… _obtained_ earlier that morning while scavenging the Plateau for ingredients and supplies.

From the bell tower, he made his way to the (safe) edge of the Eastern Abbey and paused there to rest and assess the route directly below him. There was a small but dense forest on one side of the road, and everything else from there until the bridge he could spy in the distance was in ruins. From within them, he could spy the movements of monster hoards.

His curiosity was overwhelming. He’d figured out within the past two days that the bokoblins generally gathered their spoils all in one place and guarded it greedily—and that their spoils were, thankfully, of value to Link. He’d initially suspected most of what he found to be rotting flesh or bones, but instead Link had already found several jewels, weaponry, and fresh fruits that he did not hesitate to pocket.

With so many bokoblins—and tall bokoblins, who Link had yet to hear a name for—patrolling the ruins, there must be something of value inside…

Link threw himself off the cliff once more and aimed his landing for deep within the ruins. His silent flight blessedly didn’t alert any of the patrols or lookouts, and he landed inside a room that was mostly enclosed by four walls.

He looked around, briefly, with Magnesis as his eyes. He found a rusty shield and halberd and made them his own. Then he climbed up to the top of a wall and crouched there to survey his options.

He timed his exploration to avoid the tall goblins’ patrol. Most of what he found was rusted armor that had been eaten so badly by the elements that it wasn’t worth picking up.  Link made the misstep of dropping in to a room with a sleeping bokoblin. He hadn’t seen it amid the piles of rubble, and his eyes had just been glued to the trunk in the corner. Inside was a satchel full of tinkling jewels that he assumed was currency.

The bokoblin woke with a snort that sent Link spinning; this bokoblin was blue, like some of the stronger bokoblins on the Plateau—but this one wore white war paint across its face.

The creature _screamed_ at Link. His hand went not for the sword but for the bow over his shoulder, and while the monster raced to pick up its own rusty sword and shield, Link prepared an arrow. The moment the bokoblin turned to fight, it fell.

An arrow protruded from its eye.

Link waited a moment with baited breath to determine if the other monsters had been alerted—but he heard nothing that would indicate that he was in any more danger than before.

He found that although the bokoblin’s sword was rusty, its discarded scabbard was in good condition. He claimed it for its utility and then climbed over the monster’s body to go inspect the book he had seen in the corner of the room.

It was furry with mold and the ink had run from what was likely decades of rain, but it was legible.

_I hide the eight priceless relics I stole form Hyrule Castle in treasure chests... I shall write down their locations._

Link quickly tore out the pages the thief had scrawled their hints on and folded them carefully between the pages of King Rhoam’s journal for safekeeping. He didn’t have a complete map of Hyrule yet, nor did he have the luxury of time—but maybe as he traveled he’d pass some of those locations and find the treasures that had been stolen from the Hylian royal family. He was particularly intrigued by the thief’s mention of the _Hero of Twilight._

He’d have to ask someone to tell him that story. Perhaps Impa would know it.

Link stole past the last of the sentry goblins and left the ruins safely. The sun was high overhead and he was beginning to grow hungry. He avoided the main road by a few yards so that he was obscured by the tall grass. He had found that apples were in season, it seemed, as they covered the ground and dropped off of trees in the breeze, so he had many to snack on.

He strolled across what remained of a stone bridge. The keystone of it had worn smooth with time, but Link could just make out the letters _PR-X-M._ He crossed the bridge without incident and reached the mouth of the Dueling Peaks Road. His Slate vibrated as he entered the vicinity of his Waypoint, but it needn’t have; he could see the Tower plainly.

He used Cryonis to cross the river to the base of the tower and then craned his head back to plan out his route of ascent. His fingers curled just thinking about scaling it, and he wondered how much of his day would be spent trying to reach the top. He had no idea how long it was expected for him to take to get to Kakariko Village, anyway, so he supposed it didn’t matter if he was delayed. Besides, he’d have a better idea once he had a map.

He _hoped_ this Tower would give him a map, at least.

 

The Tower did indeed present him with a map, and the road to Kakariko appeared to be longer than he had imagined—but shorter than he had feared. He set a new Waypoint and glided down through the pass.

He nearly landed on a lizard monster camouflaged as a boulder.

At the last moment, it sprang out of its hiding spot and leaped at him, limbs flailing. Link fumbled for a weapon, a shield, and nearly got tangled in the apparatus of his paraglider. Fortunately he raised his shield just in time to catch the worst of the lizard monster’s spear.

Link left the shield behind—he had others—and bolted down the pass, pulling out his Slate as he ran. He left a cube bomb in his wake and, with a glance over his shoulder, detonated it just as the lizard skittered over it. The lizard was thrown high into the air by the concussive blast, hit the mountainous wall, and then fell quite a distance into the water. Link didn’t stop to see if it was alive or not.

Link only stopped running when he saw the bokoblin camp in the distance. He almost turned tail, but he stopped halfway through the motion and stared up at the cliff in front of him. He leaped for the wall and found a handhold; the moment his hands touched the stone, the Slate at his hip began to vibrate. In a few short heaves, he found himself perched on a narrow precipice that widened to allow enough space for a shrine. Link was glad for the reprieve, and after unlocking the door, he sat inside the alcove and caught his breath for a while.

In the Rhee Dahee shrine, Link found a strip of maroon cloth decorated with Sheikah symbols. In the process of unlocking the chest with the Slate, it seemed to identify it: _Climber’s Bandanna infused with technology that enhances focus and climbing ability._

He wondered how he was supposed to know if he was wearing it right, but after tying it around his head and neck in different ways, he settled on pulling it back over his forehead so it kept his bangs away from his face. That would help him focus, right?

He left the shrine and decided not to continue along the road but rather along the narrow cliff above it. He had to press his belly flat against mountainsides for some stretches, but it was worth avoiding the threats below.

As he finally reached the end of the pass, Link took a moment to look out at the world before him. There was another shrine almost directly below him, but it was surrounded by a spiked barrier as though it were trying to keep someone out. He wasn’t concerned; he could easily glide in from his perch and use Cryonis to climb out. Thank the Goddess, that Slate would come in handy.

Beyond the Shrine was something more concerning: a giant horse head. It was constructed of cloth and wooden beams, but there was a certain fierceness in the flare of its mane and the way it ever-so-slightly swayed in the wind. Horses, dogs, and people milled about its base and passed in and out of the tent at its base. It was some sort of meeting place, and Link would hazard a guess that it was a stable or some sort of equestrian event stage—he would have to investigate, certainly.

If he were to continue to follow the river that cut through Dueling Peaks Pass, Link could see a glowing, unactivated Tower in the distance; the road to it was obscured by a dense fog and scattered trees.

Link glided down to the Ha Dahamar Shrine and, in addition to the spirit orb, got a purple rupee for his efforts. Given that the Shrine was itself another Cryonis Trial, Link was a little disappointed that the stone spikes around the Shrine had disappeared by the time he exited. He quickly came to appreciate their absence, however. A woman stood at the edge of the pond and stared at him, open-mouthed, as he emerged from the Shrine.

“I’ve been trying to get in there for weeks!” She shrieked and stamped her foot. “Was there treasure inside?”

Link was speechless for a moment, and the woman seemed to calm down a little. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I swear I’m not crazy. I guess there are plenty of those weird things scattered around Hyrule. One day I’ll get inside one!” She laughed nervously and hurried off in the direction of the bridge.

Link wanted to ask her her name. She was the first Hylian he’d spoken to since waking who might not have turned out to be a ghost—but now she was across the bridge and headed straight into the fog. He wasn’t keen to follow her, and he had caught a whiff of someone’s cooking coming from the nearby settlement, so he set off through the pond that surrounded Ha Dahamar.

There was a man armed with a spear near the edge of the settlement, but he merely nodded at Link as he passed by.

“Heeeeeey!”

Link didn’t see who called him, at first, because he was obscured by a giant beetle. Satchels and sachets of herbs adorned the beetle’s back, and a long pole stuck out over its horn. A flag hung from the tip of the pole with a crudely drawn face.

Link came around the side of the beetle to find a person sitting behind it, a small table propped up on their lap.

“Hello! I don’t believe I’ve made your acquaintance! The name’s Beedle, but you can call me— Actually, let’s just stick with Beedle.”

Beedle held out a hand for Link to shake, and as they shook, Link found that his tongue was frozen. Was it safe to introduce himself as Link? The moment was drawing out longer and longer—

“Nice to meet you,” he said softly. “I’m Link.”

“I _swear_ I’ll remember it!” Beedle clasped their hands in front of them and stared intently at Link’s face. “Link. Link. Link,” they murmured. “Got it! Even if you don’t remember my face or my name, you _have_ to remember me by my beetle-shaped backpack! Despite these dangerous times, you’ll find me traveling all over Hyrule to fulfill your shopping needs.” Beedle slapped their hands on the plank they held in their lap. “I stock elixir ingredients and must-have items for travelers, and I always charge a fair price…or my name’s not Beedle! I also buy all sorts of things from my customers! So… how can I help you today, Link?”

Link joined the merchant sitting on the ground. “What have you got?”

Beedle quickly spread out a catalog they had clearly drawn by hand. There were arrows in bundles of varying quantities, crickets and frogs to be cooked with ‘monster parts’ for elixirs, and something called an octo balloon.

“Hey, uh… Beedle, how about I sell you some stuff first?” Link had realized that he didn’t know how much each of the different colored gem shards he’d collected were worth. He hoped that in the process of selling things, he might observe their denominations.

Beedle nodded excitedly. “Gemstones, especially, are worth a lot! Let me see what you have!” Gemstones? Link had gemstones. Thank goodness for the bokoblins’ hoarding. “A SAPPHIRE?” Beedle squealed. “Here’s 260 rupees…”

Link was grateful that Beedle counted the rupees out loud and made note of which colors were worth the most. He sold two sapphires, several opals, and a handful of amber shards and spent only a small amount of his spoils on restocking his quiver.

“Thanks, Beedle,” he said.

Beedle vibrated with enthusiasm, and the pole that swung over his head danced with the motions. “Thank you for the business!”

Link went over to the cooking pot, where a woman sat eating her finished meal. “Do you mind if I—”

She nodded quickly, her mouth too full of food to speak. He sat and consulted the King’s journal full of recipes for a few moments before finding something he had the ingredients to make.

He was _starving_. He wished Beedle sold rice; just the thought of the rice balls that the King had written about made Link’s stomach growl.

He was thankful that the woman beside him did not seem inclined to speak. He wouldn’t have known what to say.

He made his first meal of glazed meat with herbs and scarfed that down while preparing several others. He wrapped each in the leaves he had found in the old man’s cabin and stashed them in his bag, but he saved one gooey baked apple for dessert. When he’d finished, he stood and left the cooking pot open for the next visitor to use while he explored.

“You must be headed to Kakariko.”

Link’s head snapped around to stare at the man with suspicion, but the man continued to lounge at the table inside the stable. “If not, you _should_ be. You’re in desperate need of a tailor, dear boy. The Sheikah have the most boring taste in clothes, but Hateno is probably too far for you, huh?”

The man twirled his mustache and looked away. Link guessed that the one-sided conversation was over, so he approached the man at the counter. “You’ve got eyes that tell me you’re itching to get in the saddle,” he said to Link. “Do you have horses boarded with us?”

Link shook his head. “I was just wondering if it would be possible to reach Kakariko Village by nightfall, do you know?”

The old man shook his head. “Not on foot it isn’t. At least not today.” He leaned on the counter. “Son, I _highly_ recommend you go out in the fields behind the stable and catch yourself a ride. A wild horse, I mean. It’s not safe to walk across Hyrule by yourself, and a four-legged friend will carry you away from trouble quick.”

“Ahh.” Link hesitated. “I’ve handled the trouble okay for now. But uh, thanks.”

“If you manage to catch a wild one, bring it to the stable and we’ll give you a local-made bridle and saddle to get you going.”

“Thanks,” Link said again. “How is the road to Kakariko?”

The man raised his eyebrows. “You, sir, are a one-trick pony. The road has been well-managed for years, but just in the past few days there have been some bold boko attacks along this stretch. We’ve seen a few of the bigger moblins lurking around in the woods, too. But once you cross the bridge north of here, pretty much all you have to worry about are the chuchu jelly monsters.”

 _Now that’s helpful information,_ Link thought as he headed out from the stable. He passed by several travelers leading donkeys, driving carts, and hauling large sacks full of wares they were keen to sell. He noticed that no one seemed to travel alone, and he received some odd looks for doing so himself.

He didn’t like how insistent the stable owner was—there was probably some sort of fee that he’d have to pay to board his horse or something, he was sure. But he _did_ like the idea of giving his own tired feet a break and getting to Kakariko as quickly as possible.

So Link left the road and ventured into the tall grass in search of a steed.

 

Link was _going_ to get this horse to come to him, even if his arm fell off in the process. It felt like a real possibility; his muscles _burned_ from exertion, and simply holding out the carrot, patiently, for however long he’d been standing there, was proving to be a trial of its own.

The rest of the horses had run off the moment they heard him rustling through the grass, but she hadn’t. She had screamed at him as she rounded, but then she met his gaze and hadn’t let go of it since. He was certain that she would come to him eventually, for she had no fear in her. Stubbornness, though, she had plenty of.

The sun was beginning to dip low on the horizon when she finally took her first step toward him. She tossed her head and her tangled, unwashed mane of dark hair fell across her auburn forehead to obscure her eyes—but not her teeth. Each step was a challenge, defiant.

Link _loved_ her.

She mouthed the carrot in his hand, but she did not take it at first. Instead, she stretched her neck to sniff deeply in his face. He slowly raised his other hand to stroke her cheek. She let him mount her, after he’d given her the carrot, and that seemed to be that.

He found that he had a natural instinct for riding. He knew how to guide her with gentle yet firm fistfuls of mane and subtle changes in the pressure on her ribs from his knees. She tossed her head occasionally but did not threaten to buck him, even when he coaxed her into a gallop.

His horse was fast, but riding fast bareback hurt more than falling off a cliff or getting hit by a bokoblin club, so as soon as they neared the stable once more, he asked her to slow.

“I see you took my advice,” the stable owner observed smugly. “Twenty rupees gets you the saddle, bridle, and registration. We’ll board her at no additional cost, and we’ll circulate her registration and your name to our network of stables around Hyrule, so you’ll get the same treatment anywhere you go. What do you say?”

Link handed over the money and stepped back to allow the stable boys to saddle her up—but she kicked at them and rolled her eyes fearsomely as soon as they approached.  
The stable boys seemed not to mind, and they approached Link instead. “She’ll take to you putting these on her much better than us,” one of them said, and they were right. The horse had no complaints about Link’s hands passing over her flanks or under her barrel chest, and she dipped her head to cooperate as the bridle slipped over.

“Last thing, Mr. Link.”

Link turned to the stable owner.

“What’s her name?”


	7. The Road to Kakariko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~exposition~

Prayer carried Link across the northern bridge on swift hooves. He’d been instructed to take the time to get her cleaned and shod, but there would be someone to help him in Kakariko. Prayer’s hooves swiftly navigated the rubble strewn across the bridge and up the ravine path. The steep grade did not slow her.

“Help! Heeeeeeelp, my poor maracas!”

Link pulled Prayer up and whirled on the source of the pleas. The giant Korok stood under a tree and tears poured down its face from behind its tree mask. When Link dismounted, it looked up.

“SHALAKA!?” it exclaimed and wiggled its stubby arms. “You!”

Link stopped his approach. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s been one hundred years! Shala-zah! Shala-kah! I could dance! I could sing! BUT MY MARACAS ARE GONE.” The Korok spun around and pointed at a rock formation in the distance. “Those monsters over there stole them, and I can’t use my powers without them, _shoko_ …”

Though he had an eye on the dwindling twilight, Link could not help but feel the need to help the poor Korok. “I’ll get your maracas,” Link said with a hint of a sigh.

“PLEASE!”

“Just…watch my horse for me. I’ll be back.”

Link left Prayer with the crying Korok and set off up the hill. As he drew close to the rock formation the monsters supposedly hid behind, he tried to come up with a plan.

He quietly climbed up over the little tunnel the bokos had found for themselves and peeked over at their celebrations. They danced around a fire and waved their clubs, beat their chests, and rattled their shields at one another. A goat bleated plaintively nearby as it died from its wounds.

A blue bomb rolled down toward the fire, and one of the bokos tripped on it in the middle of its dance. The others crowded around to investigate—and they were promptly thrown high into the air as it exploded. All but one fell off the side of the cliff; their screams ended abruptly at the bottom.

The lucky survivor was badly wounded and stunned by the blast, and Link grimly summoned a square bomb to chuck at it. The boko saw him as he stood to toss it, and it bellowed at the sight.

The fiendish thing caught the bomb as Link tossed it, and for a split second seemed about to throw it right back. Link mashed the detonate button just in time, and the boko succumbed. The roughly hewn chest that the bokos had made clicked open now that its creators were dead, and Link retrieved the maracas inside.

The Korok began to dance as Link came back down the path, and its singing reached Link’s ears soon after.

“SHAAAAAAA-LAAAAAAAAAAAAH-KAAAAAAAAH!”

It was hard to miss.

Unfortunately, the Korok’s joy was tempered with sorrow. “Those are my maracas alright,” it said. “It seems the little Koroks still haven’t returned the seeds that make the music inside. How am I supposed to dance now, _shoko…?”_

“Wait.” Link stopped dead. “Are _you_ Hestu?”

Hestu jumped. “Yes! That is me! The minstrel of Hyrule Forest! When I have my maracas at least…”

Link rummaged in his pack until he found the pocket that he’d been stuffing with Korok seeds. It was filled to bursting; Link could hardly walk through Hyrule without Koroks appearing under stones, in wells, and on the top of pillars, and each of them asked him to give their seeds to Hestu.

Before he could speak, Hestu had begun to sniff the air suspiciously. When Link opened his hands to show the minstrel the pile of tiny seeds, Hestu positively levitated with glee. “Oh, if you give me just one of those seeds I will enchant your bag to hold anything you want! More shields, more swords, more bows! Please, oh, please give me a seed! _Sha-shaka!”_

Link was happy to do so and, with the gift of six Korok seeds, requested much more space for shields and bows. Hestu danced around him and shook his now-glowing maracas over Link’s head and around his pack, singing all the while. Finally, the forest spirit twirled on one stubby foot and sent magical sparks flying into the air from his maracas.

“I’ll be making my way back to the Forest now,” Hestu said. “I don’t want any more monsters stealing my maracas in the dark!”

Link agreed and, happy with the latest turn of events, returned to Prayer and set off ahead of Hestu.

The night grew cool, and Link was glad of his warm doublet. He had removed his climbing bandanna, and the feeling of the wind in his hair invigorated him after his long journey. He entered Kakariko Village without incident and dismounted to meet the old woman sitting on guard.

“Say, traveler…” The old woman’s expression was guarded as he approached. “Where did you get that…object hanging from your waist?”

Link caught himself instinctively reaching for the Slate at his hip. “I was instructed to bring it here,” he said. He didn’t know how else to explain how it came into his hands; neither did he know if it was safe to tell this old woman.

“I see.” She stood painstakingly to meet his gaze. “That Sheikah Slate is a symbol. It means that you are the hero of legend, though there are few who know of such legends anymore…” She offered him a thin smile and turned to look out over the small village. “We Sheikah have been waiting for you for a very long time.”

“I was told to speak to Impa.”

“ _Lady_ Impa!” the old woman corrected him quickly. “Her house is just below the Lantern Falls. I suggest you waste no more of her time.”

Link bristled, but he led his horse down the path into the village. As he passed by shopkeepers and villagers, he sensed that even more eyes were on him than he could see. He reached the center of the village but paused. To his right was the entrance to Impa’s house, guarded by two Sheikah men with swords at their sides. They regarded him with the utmost suspicion. To his left was Hylia.

Her statue here was in the center of a small pond filled with lively fish and turtles, and she was surrounded by unlit torches. Link was drawn to her, but first…

He took an old torch from his sack and went to the nearby campfire to light it before he returned to the Goddess. Though she seemed to have been well cared for over the years, he could feel that someone had neglected her of late. He lit the torches that surrounded her and stood before her, eye to eye with the statue.

 _You have done well to journey this far,_ she said at the far reaches of his mind, _but you have a ways yet to go. When you have obtained two more spirit orbs, I will be able to amplify your being even more. Go, Dear One. Bring peace to Hyrule_.

“You there! How dare you…dare to trespass upon Lady Impa’s abode!”

The guards had drawn their swords as he approached, but Link stood with his arms loosely at his sides and all his weapons stowed in his bag. He watched the guards cautiously and considered how he could introduce himself—but as before, he didn’t need to.

“Dorian, is that… Is that a Sheikah Slate?”

The guards glanced at one another.

“That can’t be… That means—”

“Please forgive us for behaving so rudely.” The guards sheathed their weapons and dropped to one knee. “Lady Impa herself has told us the legends. We should have known. Please, friend… She is waiting for you.”

Link stood, frozen, as the path was cleared before him. He could feel the whole village at his back as they waited for him to—

He took the stairs one at a time to the ceremonial doorway that looked over the village. A young Sheikah girl watched him ascend, but she covered her face and shook when he drew near.

“Could you be the hero my grandmother told me about? Oh no, I forgot your name! I pre-pre-prepared my whole life for this!”

Link felt a nervous smile creep across his face as the girl began to cry a little. He felt pity for her, not being able to fulfill a role she’d been given, even if it was so seemingly simple.

“I’m Link. What’s your name?”

The girl peeked through her hands and he saw that her forehead was tattooed with the Sheikah symbol. “Pa-pa-pa-paya,” she stammered. “Please, my grandmother has been waiting for you! Hurry!”

She bowed low, her face still covered by her hands, and offered him no help with the doors.

He wished there was some way he could enter without fanfare, but he put a hand on one door and both flew open.

The room was dimly lit by a glowing orb beside the throne, and smoke rose from incense that burned on either side of it. In the center, a tiny woman knelt meditatively on a tall stack of pillows. Almost her whole body was obscured by her enormous wicker hat; heavy iron weights hung around its edges, and a red Sheikah eye stared at him from its brim.

“So,” Impa said. “You’re finally awake.” Impa looked up at him, a broad smile on her tired, ancient face. “It has been quite a long time, Link.”

He hung in the doorway still, unsure if that was his cue to speak. She seemed to sense his uncertainty, or maybe she saw it in his face. She tilted her head and gestured for him to kneel before her. “I am much older now, but you remember me… don’t you?”

Still, he was paralyzed in the doorway. He couldn’t have spoken if he’d tried—he didn’t know where his tongue had gone.

“What is the matter?” Impa asked. “You are looking at me as though I am a stranger to you. Those eyes… They lack the light of familiarity. It is I, courageous one.”

Link jumped as though he had been scalded.

“Surely you must at least remember the name Impa?” Impa leaned forward with wide eyes. “I see… So you have lost your memory.” Her shock disappeared under a placid, grandmotherly mask, and she leaned back under her hat. “Link, that may actually be a blessing in disguise. Dearest Link, please come a bit closer.”

He did not kneel; his muscles would not obey him once he’d reached the foot of her throne. She hid her gaze beneath her hat. “Have you gone mute, too?”

He shook his head—then caught himself. “No.” His voice rasped, and he felt a hot tinge of shame. _I just have nothing to say. Give me direction. Point me and loose me like an arrow. Like the blunt weapon I am._ “I am just…scared of disappointing you, Impa.”

Impa looked up at him sharply, and his face grew hot at the startled look in her eye. “Disappointing me?” she repeated incredulously. “One hundred years ago, you protected the Princess—and all of Hyrule—from certain doom. I am here, Kakariko Village is here, Hateno is here, because the Princess has kept us safe, and you are the one to thank for that, Link. I could never be disappointed in you.”

She sighed. “Before the Princess could be convinced to leave your side, she made me swear to live long enough to give you a message. I have waited 100 years to deliver her words to you. _However_!”

The iron weights attached to her hat clanked as she sat up straight, her eyes fierce. “The Princess risked her life to leave these words for you, and if you are to hear them, I must know if you are prepared to risk your life as well.”

 _Oh._ Link nearly smiled, though it would have been a bitter one. Regardless, Impa did not see; she had disappeared under her hat once more.

“I am afraid that burden may be too much to bear while you are still without your memories. I leave the choice to you.”

Link knelt and bowed his head. “I made that choice when I left the Great Plateau and came to you,” he said softly.

“Not a memory to your name, yet you are as intent as ever to charge forward with only courage and justice on your side.” Impa slapped her knee lightly at the thought; Link could not look at her. The delight that was so evident in her voice, the recognition of something in him that he himself did not see, sat like a weight in his chest. “You have not changed a bit. Once a hero, always a hero.”

Link could not help but shudder. He needed her to tell him the princess’s message and stop talking about who he was. But no—he wanted to hear about himself. About the princess. About before. He just didn’t want to be compared to that person who had clearly known what he was doing.

“Tell me, before I begin, what has happened to you on your journey.”

He let himself relax a little and sat, though he still did not look at her. He told her of the princess’s voice waking him from slumber and gifting him the Sheikah Slate. He spoke of the King who had disguised himself as an old traveler and guided him, told him the Creation myth and the legend of the Hero. He mentioned the Shrines. And he told her of Hylia.

“I didn’t want to be the Hero,” he told Impa in a hoarse whisper. “I _don’t_ want to be the Hero. I failed already, when I had been so prepared. Now, certainly I’m going to fail again. But this is the path before me and I must walk it.”

Impa’s head was bowed low, and when she finally raised it, Link saw that her face was damp with tears. “I was surprised that you would speak so openly to me of your fears, earlier,” she told him. Her voice was strained with emotion. “You were so young, my friend, when you found the sword that seals the darkness… No one knew how you felt about the destiny that fell upon your shoulders thereafter. Others thought you must be proud, for you carried out your duties so admirably, without complaint.

"I thought you strong and brave, perhaps foolhardy, for facing the prospect of evil without fear. I see that I was wrong.” Impa smiled at him through her tears. “I doubt you were so different then, Link. I am certain that you were plagued with the same fears and doubts that you face now. And you will see in time that no hero is without them.”

 

The evil has been turned back time and time again by a warrior with the soul of a hero, and a princess who carries the blood of the Goddess. With the passage of time, each conflict with Ganon faded into legend. This ‘legend’ I will tell you occurred ten thousand years ago, when Hyrule was a highly advanced civilization. Of course, the people believed it wise to use their technology to ensure the safety of the land should Calamity Ganon ever return.

They constructed the four mechanical wonders that became the Divine Beasts: Vah Ruta, the mechanical oliphant, to defend Lanayru; Vah Rudania the salamander of Akkala; Vah Medoh, eagle of the Tabantha region; Vah Naboris, the camel of the Gerudo deserts. Each was piloted by a skilled warrior from each region.

They also built a legion of autonomous weapons called Guardians, with which you are acquainted.

Upon Ganon’s inevitable return, the Princess and the Hero fought alongside the four pilots against this ancient evil. The Guardians were tasked with protecting the Princess as the Divine Beasts unleashed a furious attack upon their terrible foe. When the Hero, wielding the sword that seals the darkness, delivered his final blow, the Princess used her sacred power to seal away Ganon once more.

This was the success of our ancestors, and a hundred years ago we hoped that it would be ours, too. How foolish we were. Ganon had had ten thousand years to dwell on his failure against the Divine Beasts, ten thousand years to think of a new plan. It took mere moments for all our best efforts to go to waste, turned afoul by Ganon’s Malice.

 

“Link,” Impa said sternly, “the princess told me that the only way to ensure the survival of Hyrule was to free the Divine Beasts! We had no hope of beating Ganon without them, and when they were turned against us we were doomed. With these weapons on your side once more, you will not fail.”

“Is that what the princess told you?”

Link hadn’t meant to sound so tense, even slightly doubtful of Impa’s words. Yet his heart hurt at the thought that that was all the princess had left him.

“Yes,” Impa said. “That is what she told _me_. The device Princess Zelda left _you_ … let me see it.”

He handed over the Sheikah Slate and allowed Impa to examine its runes. “How strange,” she murmured. “When this was in the princess’s hands, only one function was available—and it is gone, now. Link, you must go to Hateno Village and meet the Sheikah researcher there. I believe that Zelda may have intended you to see and use what she had left on it. It may still be recoverable, but only Purah would know.”

Link accepted the Slate back and found that Impa had placed five new Waypoints for him; he assumed they were the locations of the Divine Beasts and Hateno.

“Link, you must be exhausted. Please, find rest and resources in my village. Return to me before you leave, but…” Impa seemed to think better of what she had been about to say and simply sighed. “I think I will also take a nap. Now, go.”


	8. Sheikah Stories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wasted a lot of times trying to figure out my personal LOZ timeline. Find it on the tumblr with the same name as this fic. It will have only slight relevance to WWW, if any at all.

Only Impa’s guards remained outside when Link finally stepped into the night. They stepped away automatically as he approached but did not immediately speak. Link stood in the archway and tried to figure out where he was supposed to go.

Finally, Dorian yawned and stretched. “Well, my shift is done. Would you like me to show you around?”

Link almost melted with gratitude. He nodded.

Dorian’s smile was easygoing. “That is our inn, which you should probably take advantage of soon judging from how far you had to come.” He nodded at the first building to the right of the Goddess Statue. “Next to it is our fletcher. She stocks fire and ice arrows in addition to the standard Sheikah fare. Across is the grocer—she happens to have some elixir ingredients as well as vegetables, which is quite the rarity these days.”

They started walking to the left. “This is Cado’s house—he’s the other guard. And this is the tailor. I recommend you obtain some better-fitting clothes and armor before you venture out of the village.”

There were two heavy impacts against Dorian’s back, and he nearly toppled forward onto his face. Link looked down and saw two little girls hugging on to him, one on each leg. “And these are my pumpkins!” Dorian swept up his daughters and bounced them in his arms. “Girls, this is—”

Link hurried to stem whatever title or praise Dorian was about to bestow on him. “Just Link is fine.”

“Link.” Dorian nodded. “Well, I am going to take these pumpkins to bed. If you need anything, Cado will be on duty through the night, and anyone in the village is happy to be of service I’m sure.”

Link found himself smiling as Dorian trudged up the hill to his house, while the girls waved and grinned over his shoulder back at Link.

He followed Dorian’s advice and ventured in to the tailor’s shop first. There were two complete outfits on display and several piles of other folded garments behind the counter. “Good evening,” the shopkeeper called sleepily, then abruptly realized who had entered her store. “Oh man, you’re _just_ my type,” she blurted.

Link wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, so he ignored it and approached the maroon tunic on the dressform to his right. He had enough rupees for the tunic—which also came with an undershirt and a warming layer—and accompanying trousers as well as the new pair of boots beside them. “I’ll take these,” he said, pulling out his satchel of money.

The woman behind the counter straightened up. She seemed like she couldn’t decide whether to refuse his money or to take it. “Ugh, you’re not even trying to _barter_?” She sighed dreamily. “How noble.”

He placed the fistful of rupees firmly on the counter. “Please,” he said shortly. “I need to change out of these clothes.”

She crinkled her nose. “Clothes? Rags, more like it. But you don’t need to wear such hardcore traveling garments in the Village. Here, I’ll throw in some of our traditional daily garb for free.” She eyed him carefully to guess his size and pulled several items off of the shelves behind her. She even gave him a traditional Sheikah hat. “There’s a changing room right here. Go on, I’ll bundle up your traveling gear while you change.”

Link gave her a nod and went to figure out the Sheikah robes. There was a black, skin-tight undershirt that clasped behind his neck and left his shoulders and back exposed. The fabric was cool and silky against his skin in a way that made him keenly aware of how rough his old, sweat-stained, papery shirt was. The pants were loose and airy but allowed full range of motion, while the boots were soft, supportive, and gripped the floor well. These were designed for comfort, but a kind of comfort that could be rudely interrupted at any moment.

The outer robe was a little big on him, but he liked it that way. It was warm if he kept it belted tightly, but if he left it a little more open he felt comfortably cool yet unconfined. He finished pulling on the gloves and fixed the hat upon his head and returned to the front of the shop. The woman had packaged his new outfit and put it in a bag for him already. “Thank you for the business!” she said. “And by the way—if anyone ever asks you where you got your slick new look, send them my way!”

Link thanked her and ventured out into the Village once more. He didn’t feel like grocery shopping at the moment, so he went to the inn. The man behind the counter was fast asleep when he entered, so Link took a look at the prices listed on the wall and left the right amount of rupees on the counter. He took care not to wake the innkeeper. He had empathy for the sleep-deprived.

Before Link went to sleep, he shed the outer layers of the Sheikah robes and sat on the bed cross-legged to rearrange his pack, for things were getting hard to find in there. As he unboxed his new purchases, he realized that the tailor had also thrown in the full Sheikah armor set without him knowing.

He felt his face go red. _That was too kind of her._

There was a note tied to the hair sticks:

 _I know you’ll be busy hero-ing soon, but should you ever come back to Kakariko, we would make_ really pretty _babies. Just saying!_

Link crumpled the paper immediately and threw it into the fireplace. At least now he knew what it meant to be someone’s type.

 

He lay in bed for a long time, listening to the innkeeper’s snores and the soft clucking of cuccos outside. He had been so disappointed to receive an order on behalf of the Princess—not a message, not words of encouragement. But to find out that she had left something else for him… He wanted to leave for Hateno that very moment to go find it.

Duty kept him in place, but he had a dire need to speak to Impa again. How did she know him from when he was young, before he found the Sword? Who else knew him, who might still be alive now? It would be nice to get a complete map of Hyrule, so he’d know what he was getting into before he was in the thick of it. What other kind of monsters were out there? Did Guardians have a weakness?

Link drifted to sleep and once again dreamed of dying.

This time when he woke, Link remembered some of the dream. Enough of it, at least, to have the need to run to the lavatory and retch.

 _Never again,_ he prayed as he knelt by the chamber pot. _Please… let me sleep._

It was still dark out, so Link returned to bed. The Goddess may have intervened with his psyche, or perhaps his nausea had exhausted him enough, but he slept peacefully for a while and dreamed of nothing. When he awoke, it was almost blissful. The bed was so much softer than the old man’s weathered straw mattress, and the Sheikah blankets were thick and warm.

His muscles were more sore than they had been since he woke, but he forced himself to get out of bed, bathe, and dress for the day. Moving through the soreness felt gratifying and familiar. He wandered slowly through the Village and found Prayer brushed, shod, and well-fed. Her mane had been braided back but her long forelock remained across her brow.

“So you enjoy being pampered, hm?” He stroked her soft nose as she ate an apple from his hand. “Enjoy it while it lasts, girl.”

He returned to the main Village and bought a new quiver’s worth of arrows of each kind, and butter. He felt that he had more than enough ingredients, but _butter_ was something he could not scavenge in the Wild.

He saw an old Sheikah man running laps in a circle and approached him to investigate.

“I’m training myself to one day be worthy of the Hero’s Trial!” the man panted. “It rests atop of the hill that overlooks the Village. It has been locked for centuries, but it will open to the worthy!” He kept running. Link was amused and made a note that he should probably at least register the Travel Gate of the Shrine before he left.

He inquired with Cado to see if Impa was ready for company and learned that though she took short, frequent naps, she was rarely asleep for long. Sheikah know how to wait.

Paya was polishing the wood floor in front of the Sheikah Orb when Link entered, and Impa spoke to her softly as she worked. Paya whirled around when the door opened, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging slack. Impa chortled softly under her breath.

“Granddaughter, go upstairs and make me some tea,” Impa ordered, and she continued to laugh as Paya squeaked and ran upstairs in a mad scramble. Link closed the doors behind him and approached Impa to kneel at her feet as he did the day before. “Good morning, Link,” Impa said. “I wondered how long it would take you to wake me with your doubtlessly infinite questions.”

“They kept me up for a while,” Link admitted. “I don’t think I want to hear about how great I was…before.”

Impa tilted her head to the side. “Oh?”

Link nodded resolutely. “There are other things that would help me more. Like…how did we meet, Impa?”

The soft sigh that came from Impa surprised Link. The happiness in her eyes was tangible, but so was her weariness. “There is a sweetness in you, boy,” she told him as she resettled herself on her pillows. “You may not have meant it that way, but it touches me that you care to know of our relationship… You get that from your mother.”

The boy at her feet winced reflexively. He had wanted to hear this, and part of him wanted her to continue more than anything else—and yet mention of his mother hurt him precisely because it did not hurt. He struggled to meet her eyes as Impa regarded him so intently, but he hoped that she understood his need to hear more, to power through the guilt.

“She was a strong Sheikah in my generation, and together we served as secret guards of the royal women: the Princess Zelda, and the Queen mother before her. That is how she met your father, and that is how _I_ came to know you from boyhood. Your father, in his wisdom, encouraged you to train under your Sheikah aunts and uncles. He wanted your steps to be without sound, your arrows to fly true, and your resourcefulness be enough to carry you through life… should either or both of your parents fall in the line of duty. So I trained you, Link. I was your teacher.”

Impa could not look at him now, and Link knew that he was not the only one who felt quite wretched at that moment. She had been such a part of his life, and yet even she had not been spared from his amnesia. “You were a quick study, but you’d so gladly skip your lessons to swim up a river with the Zora, accompany your father on parade days, or explore places that were rumored to be enchanted… That is how you found the Sword of Evil’s Bane. You kept it hidden under your bed for a week!”

Link could understand why.

Impa chuckled a little, though there was a dark twinge to the memory. “You did not want to hear about yourself from one hundred years ago, so I will stop there. What else can I help you with, before you set off on your long journey?”

He unfolded the ancient journal pages he had found in the ruins outside of the Great Plateau. “’The princess of twilight, whose stories are handed down alongside those of the Hero of Twilight… Her helmet can be found at the temple ruins soaked in the waters of Regencia River. Is the—”

Impa shook her head, and he stopped abruptly. “Hero of Hyrule. Wind Waker. Knight of the Goddess. Hero of Twilight… These are just some of the titles that our legends have bestowed on Hylia’s Chosen Hero. Across _many_ incarnations, he has been called the Hero of Time. Scholars have debated for centuries the details of each Hero’s path and the order of each incarnation and their deeds, and they have never reached a conclusion. We have 10,000 years of missing details, missing stories, and seemingly contradictory facts. I could tell you some bedtime stories, but I am afraid that is all they are good for. There is little you can learn from them that is of practical use now.”

Link flushed. Impa had seen right through him, and he felt adequately disabused of his hope that by finding the ancient relics of the Hero he might unlock something useful in himself. Unlock _the_ Hero.

“Link,” Impa said softly. “ _‘A sword wields no strength unless the hand that wields holds it has courage.’_ Those words were passed down by the Knight of the Goddess through generations of the Royal Hylian Guard, and they were said to you on the day that you finally entered their ranks. You have said them to countless others who dreamed of following in your footsteps. Heed them now.”


	9. Ta'loh Naeg's Teaching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's so much aimless travel in BotW, which I love, but now is not the time to explore, Link! Get where you need to go!

_To you who sets foot in this shrine… I am Ta’loh Naeg. I share with you my knowledge, that it may please Hylia._

Link was somewhat at a loss as he faced the wide-open chamber of the Shrine. He could see only two chests, one to either side of him. He found a sword and a shield, and, when he held both of them in his hands, the monk spoke again.

_Step in to the arena._

The chasm at the center of the arena began to move, and Link stood frozen in horror as a tall, tripedal Guardian rose with it. Its singular eye flashed with a rapid laser discharge that was aimed at Link’s feet, just short of hitting him. Link stumbled back as smoke and shards of stone flew into his face.

The Guardian brandished its glowing blue sword and closed in on Link; he’d only just regained his footing and his breath.

 _Use a side hop to avoid enemy attacks,_ Ta’loh Naeg intoned. _This will create an opening that you can use to strike back. Keep your focus on the enemy at all times._

Link raised his shield just in time to block a downward slash from the Guardian. It fell heavily on his arm, and his shoulder bore the brunt of the follow-through.

“Next time,” he said to himself through gritted teeth.

He took a step back, but he kept himself in the range of his enemy. He tried to resist the chills that the robot’s beeping and clacking induced in him; he focused only on the wicked blade of blue aura it wielded. The Guardian’s sword arm swiveled back around to face Link, then raised high—and in the split second that he had, Link jumped to the side. It wasn’t perfect: the sword grazed the face of his shield, and his landing was awkward enough to render his counter attack, at best, annoying.

He waited for the Guardian to recover its balance and wits. He raised the Shield of the Mind’s Eye.

_Again._

It wasn’t the monk speaking in Link’s mind; it was his _own voice,_ and it shocked him so thoroughly that he forgot his task. When he sidestepped the Guardian Sword, this time, it was a thoughtless reflex. He stepped out of himself, out of the awareness of his feet and his arms, of his hard breathing or even his sense of balance.

Freed from sensation and doubt, he moved faster than time itself.

The Guardian stood frozen as sparks burst from the target of Link’s flurry. It did not move immediately to continue the test. Instead, it seemed to be waiting for Link to come back to himself, just as he had waited for it.

It was going to be a moment. Link felt winded and weak from—whatever he had just done. It was more than simply dodging and striking opportunistically. He had somehow managed to create a minute opening and stretch the moment of truth out beyond what was physically possible. He hadn’t felt, as he attacked, that he moved much faster than normal; indeed, he had felt the world moving slow. Yet he could hardly stand; he was as winded as if he had unleashed a thousand blows on his target in just a single second.

 _Do a backflip to avoid enemy attacks and create an opening to strike back,_ Ta’loh Naeg ordered.

A backflip? Link nearly groaned, but he pulled himself up and raised his shield, despite his protesting arms. The Guardian came back to life and this time, it swung its single blade horizontally in a sweeping motion that certainly would have cut Link in half. He jumped back a step, and he felt the blade of air hit him in the physical sword’s wake.

He waited to hear if that voice, the one that was his but hadn’t come from him, would encourage him again—but there was little time to wait, to listen. The Guardian swept its sword back once more.

Link released his coiled muscles and leaned up and back. Upon later reflection, it should have been more difficult to divorce himself of the fear that the incoming sword would neatly slice his jugular or his more sensitive bits as he bent backwards and tumbled. In the moment, no such thought crossed his mind.

Instead, he was completely absorbed with the familiar feeling of falling, fast, yet moving nowhere. His feet touched the ground again only briefly before he once again charged the Guardian to rain a lifetime of blows down upon its exposed mechanisms.

He could feel it, the presence. It felt like the presence of the Goddess, so distant and so near; no matter how he listened, he could not hear the voice again.

It was the sparks, scalding his exposed skin, that brought him back to his body.  
He picked up the surviving pieces of the Guardian and put them in his pack, and he discarded his now-ruined Eightfold Blade. He played with the Guardian Sword as he made his way to Ta’loh Naeg. Disconnected from a power source, the aura felt brittle when he touched it. Strangely, if he held it at rest, the aura vanished altogether and all that remained was the amber hilt. If he gripped it with intent, the blade reappeared.

He paid his respects to the monk and accepted its Spirit Orb. Then, with the Shrine accessed and activated, he collected Prayer and rode out of Kakariko.

 

He had been told not to wear the Sheikah Armor out in the open, as there were still many in Hyrule who blamed them for the events of a century ago. He had also been warned to stay on the path as he approached Fort Hateno, and he soon realized why. Blatchery Plain was filled with fallen Guardians, and the road kept travelers carefully out of their range. If any were still alive, one step off the path might be enough to catch their attention. That was saying nothing of the many bokoblin camps that spotted the plain.

Link was not the only traveler on the road; merchants pulled carts and asses laden with wares, and many made camps directly behind the walls of Fort Hateno. A man stood at the entrance to keep watch and greet them, but Link and Prayer did not pause. As soon as the road broadened, he urged her into a gallop.

When it began to rain, he was grateful for the Hylian Hood. He wasn’t sure whether it was enchanted or simply made of water resistant fabric, but it kept him dry for the most part and his vision clear. Sheets of rain fell on him, and Prayer’s speed made it feel like arrows fell on his face.

And then he saw the Tower.

He drew Prayer to a halt and considered the two paths that lay before him. The Tower and Hateno lay in almost opposite directions, and the path to the Tower was littered with enemies. It would be reckless to continue on in that direction… But the storm seemed to be rolling over, and if he went to the Tower, he’d have the opportunity to get dry.

Prayer carried Link as close to the Tower as she could, but the base of it was surrounded by wicked thorns as long as Link was tall. He dismounted and led her a few paces back so that she wouldn’t harm herself on accident. Then he carefully notched a single flame arrow and took aim at the dead leaves that the thorns had trapped beneath them.

He had to take a moment to figure out the nexus point of all of the thorns, but when he found it, the flames rose quickly. They did no harm to the strange stone lattice that held the Tower upright, but they snaked up the Tower until the whole thing was consumed in flames. He was quite satisfied to find that the thorns quickly fell to ash while the Tower and its ladders remained whole.

The climb up the Tower was slow and painstaking, and he took frequent breaks to rest on the platforms that wound around it. The rain had ceased and the sun was beginning to set by the time he made it to the top and activated the Travel Gate. The map the Tower granted him made the trek almost worth it.

He could see Hateno from top of the Tower, even without the aid of his Sheikah Scope. He planned out his route around Lake Jarrah and, after paragliding down to Prayer once more, set off for the town. Her fleet hooves led him through Midla Woods just as night fell. There, she slowed to navigate the dense tree trunks, and eventually Link dismounted and led her himself.

A sudden rush of wildlife startled him: deer, rabbits, and even a bear fled by him, all going in the opposite directions.

Then he heard the screams.

He ran, with Prayer following, until he found their source. Two young women were backed against a cliff by a blue bokoblin and its lackeys, and skeletal bokos were rising up nearby. The girls were armed only with wooden staffs.

Link swung his spear in a wide arc that sent bokoblin skulls flying. He spun with the spear, caught it in two hands once again, and lunged for the leader. The spearhead sank into the boko’s back and snapped, leaving Link facing two fully-armed bokoblins and one injured, _angry_ boko.

The girls screamed again as the bokos rushed at Link. He hopped to the side to avoid one downward swing of a stolen farmer’s hoe, then he ducked to avoid a sideswipe from the second bokoblin’s club. Prayer’s furious shrieks joined the nightmarish cacophony and Link froze.

The wounded boko boss lobbed a heavy stone at him, and thank the Goddess Link had enough wits about him to lean away—instead of bashing his head in, the rock clipped his shoulder. He was sent spinning.

Link was aware of his horse’s hooves falling all around him, and he struggled to raise himself up from the ground. He couldn’t let them hurt her.

He drew a simple traveler’s sword from his pack and unhooked his shield from his back. His shield arm was hobbled, but it would do; he didn’t plan on using it.

He threw himself in front of his horse and used the hilt of his sword to disarm the boko that wielded the farmer’s hoe. He spun low to avoid another swipe from the club. He straightened up and swung blindly.

The sword was almost ripped from his hands as it caught in the boko’s neck, but after a second tug, he freed the boko’s head from its shoulders.

The blue boko had grabbed the fallen hoe behind Link’s back; though it was gravely wounded, it seemed determined to bring Link with it. Link didn’t even see the charge; he felt it down his spine, and he found himself stepping to the side to avoid the brunt of the charge. The boko was taken by surprise and fell victim to its own momentum. It couldn’t hope to turn fast enough to avoid the onslaught that followed. Link’s timing was perfect, and time stopped for him to deal the final blow.

His enemy fell, dead, and Link didn’t need to turn to know that the remaining bokoblin had dropped its weapon and fled, snorting and shrieking, into the night.

He turned to look at the girls. They now stood silently, tears streaming down their faces as they stared at him. He stared at them back. One of the girls raised a shaking hand to her mouth.

Link dropped his shield.


	10. Building Materials.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay~

The girls led him up to the village. One walked ahead; the other walked behind, gently guiding Prayer along. Link dragged himself along between them. The girl ahead of him spoke in hushed tones to the guard at the gate, and the man stared open-mouthed at Link as they passed in to the town.

It began to rain as they reached the inn, but Link paused at the bottom of the stairs. He looked blearily at the girls. “The Tech Lab?” His voice was a hoarse whisper nearly obscured by the rain.

Their eyes widened. “But sir,” one protested. “You’re injured!”

Link shook his head and sent droplets of water flying. Prayer followed his lead, and the girls flinched as they were caught in the spray. “Soon, but first the lab.”

“It’s at the top of the hill,” the younger woman said softly.

Link nodded at her and took Prayer’s reigns. Before he turned to continue on, he turned back to the girls. “What are your names?”

“Nat and Meghyn.” Link wasn’t sure which girl was which, but he tried to commit their names and faces to memory. “We were just hunting for hearty truffles in the woods—we’re merchants. We’ll be around Hateno for a few days.”

“I’ll find you soon,” Link assured them, and he set off.

 

The rain came down in sheets when Link reached the strange doors of the _Ancient Tech Lab,_ as the sign above the door proclaimed. He looked up bemusedly through the rain at the little frog statue, which looked down at him through pink-framed glasses.

He tied Prayer off to the hitching post and knocked on the door to the lab. When his knuckles met the wood, the door creaked open, so Link pushed in out of the rain and stood dripping in the silence that fell between the two occupants of the lab. The little Sheikah girl stared at him owlishly through glasses identical to the frog’s outside. She held a pen mid-stroke above her notebook, which was nearly as tall as she was. Small bits and pieces of Guardians littered the bench before her—Link could recognize those cogs and screws in an instant, now.

The man in the back quickly returned to what had previously occupied his attention: examining the bookshelf in front of him attentively.

“Hello,” said the little girl. “This is the Hateno Ancient Tech Lab. Do you have business with the director?”

Link raised his uninjured arm to draw back his hood, and he maintained eye contact with the little girl as he did so; he saw the faintest flicker of recognition in her face as his was revealed in the light of the lamp on her desk.

“I have business with _Purah_ ,” he rasped. “Impa of Kakariko Village sent me to get my Sheikah Slate examined by Purah. Are you Purah?”

“The director is in the back,” the little girl said, pointing at the Sheikah man so absorbed in his reading. “A terribly busy person, that one. Please keep it brief.”

Link took one step forward. His boots squelched. “I was told to find Purah,” he said softly.”Are you Purah?”

“Are you surprised?” She danced on her chair. “It’s ME! Linky, it’s me!” She snapped her fingers twice in a pattern Link didn’t quite catch. “I’m sooo glad you’re awake! Do you remember any dreams from your time in the Slumber of Restoration? You look exactly the same but _something_ must have changed while you were in there!”

Link wondered if he could interrupt the girl’s motor mouth, but he didn’t know what to say. In lieu of that, he removed the Sheikah Slate from his hip and approached her. Purah was still talking, but when he reached her side and held out the Slate for her, she shut up and looked at him strangely.

“…Linky?” she asked softly, hands clasped in front of her chin. “What’s with that look? You do remember me, right?”

Link stared at her blankly. He wasn’t sure if he had the mental fortitude to repeat his experience of letting Impa down. Fortunately, Purah didn’t seem to be down for long. Her sad expression was quickly obscured with mock-frustration. “Well I’m so shocked I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to recover from this!” She clasped her cheeks. “ _Even though,_ one hundred years ago, I was the one to put you in the Shrine of Resurrection! _Even though!_ Despite all that, you still don’t remember me?” Before he could answer, she’d pulled her pen out from behind her ear and began to scribble away in her notebook. “After one hundred years in the Slumber of Restoration, subject…has…lost…all…memories. Noted!”

She tapped her pen on the notebook and set it aside. “So do you have any questions for me? Here you are after one hundred years, here to defeat Calamity Ganon, who is growing in strength with every passing moment!” The child stamped her feet in excitement. “And! To rescue our beloved Princess Zelda!” She jumped up and down with glee—then abruptly covered her face. Purah peeked out from behind her hands. “That is, if you’ve got the courage to try.”

Link’s face was grim. “I went through this with Impa. I have made my decision.”

“Ahhh yes, Impa told me all that. Anyway!” Purah struck a pose. “To help the one true hero, I, the one and only Purah, will restore the basic functions missing from the Sheikah Slate!”

“Yes,” Link said, relieved. “Thank you.”

“But _first_!”

Link’s heart sank, and he was sorely tempted to mention that he was injured and in no state to perform any arduous tasks, which she was undoubtedly about to propose.

“What’s with that look? You didn’t think I’d fix your Slate for free just because the world’s fate might rely on it?”

“…I did.”

Purah pouted and reached for her notebook again. “Post Slumber, subject is plagued by…presumptuous…tendencies. Noted.”

Link ground his teeth. “What do you need, Purah?”

“The furnace that powers the lab and all my ancient tech, which I need to fix your Slate, is out of blue flame—aura, whatever. There’s an ancient furnace that perpetually spouts it down in town, but I’m too little to make it! And my assistant can never manage to bring a torch back without it going out on the way.”

“Relight the furnace. Alright.”

Link turned and nearly fell over.

Purah squealed. “Not right now! _In the rain!”_ She clapped her hands over her face and did a furious dance. “Rushing into things like this is why you _died_ , Link!”

 

Link descended the hill and returned to Hateno in the rain. He found the innkeeper waiting up for him. “They paid for a soft bed,” she said.

He discovered how much of a luxury that was the moment he shed his soaking outer layers and sat down on top of the covers. He was immediately drawn down by its gravitational pull and sank into the soft, warm embrace of the bed. _Soft bed,_ he thought gratefully.

The rain fell softly on the roof over his head, and the sound encompassed him as warmly as the quilts he lay on. His brief interaction with Purah, and the heaviness he carried in his heart after meeting Impa, did not outweigh this relief he felt. It was simple, really—too simple to mess up with and worry. Link’s arm still ached, and his exhaustion threatened to overcome his consciousness, but he found himself smiling anyway. He had helped Nat and Meghyn because he wanted to. Because he _could_. No mysterious voices had compelled him, no quest or ghost or duty. He was not their Champion or their personal guard. He was just a traveler with the right skills in the right place at the right time.

Link slept soundly on top of the covers in just his damp undergarments. His dreams—if he had any—were unburdened and light.

The rain had ceased by the time he woke late in the morning. His arm was nearly good as new, though upon inspection he found that a terrible black, purple, and yellow bruise had blossomed in the night. He felt no sense of urgency as he dressed in his Hylian traveling garb once more. Thankfully, it was mostly dry, but he resolved to buy a second set of casual clothing immediately.

He thanked the inn keeper and went in search of the tailor.

It stood at the edge of the town across from the general store. When he opened the door, he found that the shop was empty. He hesitated and considered leaving, but something caught his eye and drew him further inside. There was a complete set of armor—clearly quite old and carefully restored—on display in the back of the shop.

He read the tag on the breastplate. _Modernized armor based on the classic Soldier’s Armor set available upon request. Requires two day’s notice for proper fit_.

“Hold on just a sec!”

The timid voice startled him, and Link turned to find a small woman crouched in the corner of the room right beside the front door of the shop. How had he missed her?

“That piece will be 250 rupees!”

For that astonishingly low price and the offer of getting it fitted, Link was sorely tempted. “And the greaves?”

“Two hundred!”

“I’d like them, I think.”

The shopkeeper quaked in her boots as he approached, but the sight of his rupees soothed her. “I’ll need everything but the helm, and another tunic as well.”

“Ah-alright, let me see your measurements!” Her personality changed the moment she whipped out her tape measure. She whirled around him and alternately stretched and constricted him. In just a few seconds, he was thrown back out onto the street with a note from the tailor to come back in two days for his armor.

He looked up from his note and saw the Shrine.

He hadn’t been thinking of destiny all morning, but there it stood, staring at him from its orange eyes. He should, at the very least, activate the travel gate—it would save him from climbing up and down the hill to Purah and back during his stay. But he didn’t want to.

Link walked up to it slowly, and as he drew near the sounds of men laboring reached him from the southwest. He activated the travel gate on the Myahm Agana Shrine and then continued walking. Empty, freshly painted homes stood on either side of him complete with freshly potted flowers. He could smell the wet earth—they were recently watered, too, despite the fact that no one lived in the homes they belonged to.

He saw the laborers, finally, working on the last house in Hateno. It was a large ranch house that stood separated from the town by a bridge. Its windows were empty, dark holes that stared at him across the canyon, and through its gaping door frame, the wind whistled.

As he approached, he saw a familiar face and made a beeline for the one man who wasn’t actively hammering away at the house’s walls.

“ _Hey!_ ” the man sang when he saw Link. “You finally made your way to Hateno, hmm? Got yourself a new look, too.”

Link couldn’t help but smile at the man he'd met at Dueling Peaks Stable. “Do you approve?”

The man shrugged, and his earring jingled with the movement. “If you want my honest opinion, I think you should spice things up with a dye job. You’d look ravishing in pink, dear. But don’t take a stranger’s advice.”

“Who are you?” Link asked.

“Bolson.” The man flicked construction dust off his shoulder and tossed his head proudly. “My construction company was contracted by Hateno Village to demolish this vacant house.”

“How come? It looks like it’s a solid house.”

“Times are rough,” Bolson replied. “Not a lot of buyers. The villagers decided it was best just to tear it down. It’s a reminder of a time when the Village was much more prosperous.”

“No buyers? How much is it?”

Bolson had to look away to hide his amusement, but Link heard it in his voice. “Whoa, get a load of young moneybags… Just wants to ‘buy’ it, huh?” He glanced back at Link, and the younger man felt his face flush under Bolson’s scrutiny. “Let me lay it out for you. The demolition costs, with associated fees, permits, and such details, come in at fifty thousand rupees.”

Link tried not to show his disappointment. He had sold plenty of jewels to Beedle and found more along the way, but certainly not tens of thousands of rupees. Not yet, at least. He didn’t even know why he had thought of buying the house.

“ _Damn it,_ ” Bolson muttered. “Reminds me of me when I was a young man… Fine! Here’s the deal!” he put his hand on his hip. “Just for you! I’ll cut you a special price of three thousand rupees! BUT IN RETURN!” Link jumped as Bolson raised his voice. “I’m going to need you to bring me thirty bundles of wood. Good wood, not just firewood. Building materials… You know how it is.”

Link didn’t, really, but he felt that he certainly could gather thirty bundles of wood and a fresh three thousand rupees in an afternoon. Then he’d have a place to come back to—a place where he wouldn’t have to wake an innkeeper to find a bed in the middle of the night. A place he could furnish with his own soft bed.

“Go! Show me what you’re built of!”


	11. Locked Mementos.

Link was suddenly glad to have entered the Myahm Agana Shrine. He was fascinated by its apparatus: the strange Sheikah podium that controlled the floating island of obsidian stone across from him. He flipped it upside down so that the railings of the maze faced the void below, and he delighted in trying to follow the falling Sheikah orb with his eyes until it vanished. Somewhere, down there, there must be a chute to catch the ball—but what could return it to the trial so quickly? The moment the ball disappeared from sight, it was spat out above his head ready to complete the trial again.

He could quickly see the solutions to the puzzle, but he didn’t want to complete it. He enjoyed the echoing sound of the Sheikah ball hitting obsidian as it fell from the chute. He enjoyed the strange weight of the Myahm Agana Apparatus in his hands. But he supposed, at the same time, that he wanted to see what was in that treasure chest tucked away in the corner of that floating maze, too.

He finally flung the Sheikah ball at the right angle to get it down the ramp and into its socket, but he ignored the now-open path to Myahm Agana himself. Instead, he tilted the island so that he would be able to glide onto it—and glide off of it—easily.

It was a nice bow that he found. It was light, but it was sturdier than many he had found on the road, and just testing its draw he could tell that it would fling arrows far and straight.

He nearly slipped at the edge of the ramp and for a moment, his heart obstructed his throat. The certainty of falling into oblivion in this deep tomb was daunting to say the least. But he caught his balance and did not waste time going to pay his respects to Myahm Agana.

 

Link exited the Shrine and looked out across the peaceful Village. He felt re-energized now that he had a task for himself—something just for himself. _Thirty bundles of wood and three thousand rupees._

He could see the blue flame in a distant field beyond the town, and he set off.

He passed the East Wind general store and the dye shop, which he was tempted to enter—Bolson had piqued his curiosity, but he didn’t want to spend money when he had a house to buy. He climbed a hill to reach the most prominent house in Hateno. Hylia smiled peacefully at him from a small alcove built out of the side of the building, sheltered from the elements but somewhat forgotten. Apples shone around her and above her from the thick tree nearby.

_You who have conquered four shrines and claimed their Spirit Orbs… What do you require?_

Link heard her voice call to him even as he approached, and when he came to kneel at her feet he felt the warmth of her presence as strongly as he would have if she sat in front of him. He was silent for a long time. He sensed no impatience on her part; indeed, in her presence he felt safe to think long and hard about the tasks before him. He pulled up some clumps of grass and let them fall slowly from his gloved hands.

“I’ve barely even started,” he whispered. “I think I’m going to need a lot more strength to continue.”

 _You will have the strength,_ she assured him softly. _Now, go. Bring peace to Hyrule._

 

Link notched an arrow, let it catch a whisper of blue flame, and turned with steely resolution. Move too fast, and the flame would be quenched.

He took aim, accounting for the drop, and loosed the arrow. It whistled as it flew, and he heard the _tink_ as it hit the stone lantern across the stream.

The blue flame did not appear right away, and for a moment Link felt betrayed by his own aim—but then it seemed to catch the oil in the reservoir, and he saw it grow.

He stowed his bow and jogged toward the lantern. The stream was just wide enough that a single leap wouldn’t suffice to cross it, but aided by a quick maneuver with his paraglider, Link crossed it in one bounding step. On the other side, he found the torch that he’d left and lit it in the blue flame.

Several such lanterns lined the route to Purah’s lab, but Link saw that the sky was blue for miles and miles; he felt no need for such precaution.

He took some shortcuts up the side of cliffs—holding the lit torch under his chin—and finally reached the lab.

The forge outside the lab, beside the hitching post, was strange and bulbous. It seemed that it was made out of the same kind of stone as the Shrines, but this was rough and worn in a way he’d never seen elsewhere.

The blue flame caught quickly, and his Slate immediately came to life. He quenched the torch and left it beside the furnace as he crossed the active Travel Gate and entered the lab.

Purah stood by the dead Sheikah pedestal that was a primary focus of the lab space. “Linky! Thank you so much! The Guidance Stone is starting to react! Let’s go ahead and restore those Sheikah Slate runes for you!”

He pulled out the Slate and moved to place it in the Guidance Stone, as Purah called it—but she jumped in front of him, arms barring his way. Well, if she were any taller, she would have. He humored her and paused.

“But first…” His heart jumped once more. “Give me a snap!”

“Snap?” he repeated incredulously. “What?”

She struck a pose and snapped both her fingers at once. “SNAAAAP!”

Link did not want to look at her assistant. The mortification might kill Link right where he stood if he thought about having an audience.

He raised a hand, tilted his head, and winked at Purah. “Snap!”

The little girl was _delighted_. She danced out of his way, cheering for his style. He ignored her and quickly activated the Guidance Stone. It reacted just like the ones in the Towers. _Repairs initiated,_ it said.

When the droplet of blue aura splashed onto its face, the Slate opened its Runes screen. A new rune appeared—a green shape with a circle in it. _Camera?_  he wondered at that.

_Renders a visible image instantly into a picture. Saved into the album. Has a useful feature that registers pictures of new subjects into the Hyrule Compendium._

What a marvel.

And then the album loaded.

Link braced himself as twelve little images rolled out onto the screen. They were of a land he had not known since waking—a Hyrule free of Calamity’s ravages. He could see the Castle in several photos, intact, untouched. The sun was brighter, warmer.

_Zelda may have intended you to see and use what she had left on it._

He recalled Impa’s words, and he nearly despaired. These were beautiful pictures. But how was he supposed to use them? Were there treasures hidden at these undoubtedly now-ruined locations? Was this a guide to finding the Sword? Was it all just steps to defeating Ganon?

“Come on!” Purah tugged on the tail of his hood. “Take a picture of me with the Camera! That way you won’t forget me again!”

Link removed the Slate and opened up the Camera rune. He was surprised to find that the screen of the Slate became transparent—he could see through it to the other side and right into Purah’s excited face. A little notification appeared beside her head. _Purah_ , it read.

He activated the rune, and the screen lit up momentarily. Then the image appeared, static and still. _Save in the album?_

He saved it, then went to the album to find it.

“Did you get a cute one?” Purah clapped her hands. “Oooh! My, my, _my_! Who IS this beautiful young creature?”

Link had to laugh. Her narcissism was honestly getting to him. He wondered how her assistant got anything done with her antics,.

“Do you know what these other photos are about?” he asked Purah.

“I knew Princess Zelda had made frequent use of the Camera feature,” she said. “But this is… It dawns on me now that you were her appointed knight, which means that there’s a strong possibility that you were there with her when she took these pictures. You never left her side, you know.”

Link connected the dots immediately, and his chest tightened with the realization. Purah came to the same conclusion a moment later. “These pictures could be the missing piece to hep restore your lost memories!” Purah covered her mouth in awe. “Oh, _Princess_!”

Link needed to contain the feeling growing in his chest. He wanted to reach out and wrap Purah in his arms and squeeze. Instead, he hugged himself tightly and looked up at the ceiling to hide the tears that pricked his eyes.

“If my hunch is correct, you should check in with Impa. She knows more about Princess Zelda than even I do!”

Link nodded.

“One last thing,” Purah said quickly. “Before you rush off and turn into aura and disappear or whatever. You don’t have to worry about this until you talk to Impa, but I want you to bring me back some ancient materials! Bring them to me, and I can upgrade your runes—make them stronger! If you bring some to Robbie at the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab… well, you might _really_ like what he has to offer!”

“I have a bunch right now,” he said. “What can you do with these?” He dumped handfuls of Guardian parts on the table. “The dead Guardians around the Temple of Time just drop these parts all the time,” he said.

“Snap! Three ancient screws—I can power up your Sheikah Sensor… Three shafts. I’ll upgrade your Remote Bombs, too. Well, that’s what I can do for now. If you bring me three ancient cores—they glow, you’ll know—then I can upgrade Stasis.”

“Let’s do it,” he urged her. “Then I’ll go to Impa.”

 

He wanted to test out the powered-up runes, but he had more important tasks at hand. He stood on the Ancient Tech Lab Travel Gate and searched through his maps to find the Ta’loh Naeg Shrine in Kakariko Village.

He tried to prepare himself for the feeling, but there was no way to brace himself against the pull. He managed to look down at himself in the split second before the world was drowned in blue light, and he caught a glimpse of the disturbing, but mostly awe-inspiring, sight of his body melting into blue light and sparks.

The landing, this time, was slightly more graceful now that he knew what to expect. He kept his wits about him the moment the world came back into focus and found himself floating about a foot off the ground. His body came back to him, and then he dropped.

He felt triumphant. It was midday and, in seconds, he had crossed a distance that took a full day to travel by horse.

He took a running start and flung himself off the cliff.

The paraglider caught him as he fell, and he glided right down to Impa’s front doors. He threw them open and hurried inside.

“I heard Purah was giving you the runaround, but you seem just fine!” Impa chuckled. “Let me see your refurbished Slate.”

He opened the album and showed her the pictures that Zelda had left him. Impa immediately lit up. “This is, without a doubt, the Camera that Princess Zelda used one hundred years ago. I believe that if you visit the locations within those pictures, you will be able to restore some of your lost memories. Come back here once you’ve visited at least one of those locations, and we can discuss the…implications of whatever you may or may not remember.”


	12. Enhancements.

Paya caught his eye in his reflection on the floor she polished outside Impa’s door; Link was strangely pleased when she squeaked and ducked her head so quickly that she hit it on the floor.

He continued down the stairs and greeted Cado and Dorian briefly. He walked slowly towards Hylia but did not cross the bridge to her little island. He did not feel her presence, and he had already asked her to enhance his spirit. All he wanted now was guidance, and it seemed that she was not going to give it to him by divine intervention.

_What am I supposed to do?_

He scuffed his feet at the edge of the water and watched fish and turtles float by. _Free the Divine Beasts to defeat Ganon. Find the places the Princess visited. Get my armor from the tailor in Hateno. Buy a house._ The more immediate tasks appealed to him—he could gather wood in an afternoon, he could pick up his armor in just another day. He had little glowing points on his Sheikah Map that told him where to find the Divine Beasts—but he didn’t think that he would have much success simply storming the things with his arsenal of rusty swords and boko shields.

And he had no idea how to find the places the princess had left him.

His breath caught in his throat just as it had in the Ancient Tech Lab when he first realized what she had left him. He wondered if she had known that he would lose his memories. He had _died_ , after all, and she was the Goddess Princess. She had seemed so calm the first time he heard her voice—so certain of what he needed to do. But he had heard her worry, her desperation when she urged him to defeat Calamity Ganon.

He wanted his memory back. He wanted to scour the world for those places they had traveled together. But shouldn’t he be running to save her instead of wandering in search of his own memories? Somehow, that felt selfish of him.

 _But she left them for me._ He clenched his fists. _She wanted this for me, she’s giving me the chance to do this for myself._

When he finally turned away from the pool, he caught sight of a beautiful, half-finished painting. The Sheikah artist beside it gazed thoughtfully up at Impa’s house, taking stock of what he had yet to capture.

“That’s beautiful,” Link told him.

“Thank you,” the artist replied. “I just don’t have the motivation to finish… I have caught wind that there is a Great Fairy Fountain nearby, and the idea that there is something of such great beauty, power, _prominence_ … and I have not seen it, painted it!” The artist put a hand to his forehead to hide his sorrow. “The Chief’s house is beautiful, but to see the seat of true power, of a Great Fairy! What I would give for that.”

Link blinked at the man. “Where is it?”

The artist flung a hand in the direction of the Shrine. “It’s supposed to be hidden in those woods, but I’m told it’s too dangerous to go alone! And I don’t know if I am worthy of being in its presence! Even someone else’s rendering, a painting of their own, would be enough to satisfy my curiosity and hunger…”

“Up there?” Link had plenty of time to explore, he supposed. “I’ll see what I can find.”

“Oh, thank you, sir.” The artist clasped his hand in his own. “Might I ask your name?”

“Link. And yours?”

“Pikango the traveling artist! I have traveled all across Hyrule painting the stark beauty of the wild.”

His words tickled something in Link’s mind, but he decided to save it for later. Hopefully he’d be back soon. He said goodbye to Pikango and set off at a jog for the Shrine. He turned right and just as he passed under the Sheikah archway, he froze.

There was something in the grass. It glowed so strongly that even in the afternoon light he saw it immediately. It was shaped like a rabbit, but instead of long ears it had a strange wreath of gold that stretched above its head like antlers. It hopped once and looked around, still unaware that it was being observed; Link saw that it had red eyes and an odd, long nose.

He slowly pulled out the Slate and readied the camera. He was shocked to find that the Slate seemed to recognize the strange creature: it locked on to it with its focus and tracked it as it moved.

_Blupee._

How strange.

He waited patiently for it to look up again, and he snapped a photo to add to the Compendium. Then he continued on. The blupee ran away before he could even get close to it, and it vanished into a puff of white smoke against the side of the cliff. He wondered where it could have gone, and how, but then there was a second one in the path ahead of him. He scared that one off and continued on down the path. It was overgrown but had been worn into a scar in the earth by travelers long dead.

He could hear soft sobbing in the distance, and he quickened his pace. It seemed that the source of the noise was inside the giant, thorny bulb that stood out as the only feature of the clearing.

“How could anyone miss this?” he demanded to no one in particular.

“Huh?” The sobbing stopped abruptly, and Link drew closer to the bulb. A ramp of sturdy, giant mushrooms lead right up to it. Behind the thick walls of the bulb, Link heard a large, snotty sniffle. “Boy… Sweet boy… listen to my story.”

Link put his hands on his hips. “Sure.”

“I am the Great Fairy Cotera… This place was once a beautiful spring, but as time passed, fewer and fewer travelers arrived to offer me rupees. As a result, my power has abandoned me—”

Link groaned. “How much do you need? Don’t tell me you need thirty thousand.”

“Hey!” The Fairy inside the bulb sounded quite indignant. “I need rupees to become whole again, boy! All I need is one hundred rupees…”

“Oh.” Link fished around for his coin purse. “I can do that. Here.”

The bulb split open to allow a giant cloud of noxious perfume, followed by a bejeweled hand the side of his whole body. “Hand them over to me. Quickly!” She snatched the rupees from him and the bulb snapped closed once more.

“Aah… the power!”

The bulb erupted in a cloud of purple smoke and perfume. When the thickest smoke cleared, Link opened his eyes and looked around. He continued to choke on the perfume, but he was shocked to find that he was now surrounded by gold fixtures, rainbow mushrooms, and giant, sticky flower petals. In the center was a pool of shimmering water. It began to churn and froth, and the earth began to quake under Link’s feet.

He nearly fell flat on his ass when the giant woman burst forth from the pool, hands stretched to the heavens in ecstasy.

She did a twirl that splashed him with glitter and warm pool water and sent her jewelry jingling. “Oh, what a _feeling_ , boy! That first breath of fresh air after an eternity of decay…” She bent to examine him, resting her chin on one taloned hand. “As they say, one good turn deserves another. Please allow me to enhance your clothing and armor. It’s the least I can do, but I will need the materials.”

Link picked himself up and reached into his sack. He pulled out the Sheikah Armor set, including the sticks to hold back his hair and the scarf to obscure his face. “This is supposed to help me be stealthy,” he said.

“I can enhance your clothing a little bit,” she said. “I need three blue nightshade flowers—you can find them in the grass behind my fountain. Fetch them for me.”

He hopped down from the mushroom platform and picked a generous handful of the plants. Cotera only needed three, so he pocketed the rest.

“Alright, let me do my thing! Hold them out in front of you.”

He held the bundle of clothes and blossoms out before him, and she leaned forward, hands cupped, to blow gently on him. Her breath was sweet and warm against his face, and he felt the tingle of magic engulf him.

“All finished! Your armor is just a bit stronger now… Unfortunately, you’ll need to enhance your armor again in order to increase your stealth. For that, you’ll need five blue nightshade blossoms and five sunset fireflies.”

“I think I’ll have to come back for that. Thank you, Cotera.”

“Come back to me whenever you have material and clothes you want to upgrade… or if you free any of my sisters.” She sighed. “We have all suffered similar fates at the hands of time… Goodbye, sweet boy. Good luck.”

Thankfully, the fountain remained even after Cotera had left. Link took a picture of the fountain and explored around it in search of more flowers, herbs, and vegetables. He found a beautiful white flower that stood slightly at a distance from the rest; while the blue nightshade and herbs congregated around the fountain and the base of trees, and the carrots hid themselves behind the fountain the sandy dirt, this white flower stood alone. The singular blossom on each stalk drooped a little under its own weight, but they seemed to dip their heads as though they were shy.

Link crouched beside one and took out the Slate to photograph it. _Silent Princess._

He paused. The Slate was asking him if he wanted to add the photo to the Compendium, and he wanted to see what it would say about the beautiful flower. But then again, he felt like he had a good idea already.

He saved the photo but didn’t read its entry. He took a single flower and pressed it in-between the pages of the ghost King’s diary, and he returned to Pikango.

 

“This…is the Great Fairy Fountain?!” Pikango nearly dropped his paintbrush. “It’s certainly beautiful, but… I thought it would be more—”

“Sacred?” Link suggested.

“Elegant.” Pikango laughed a little. “Well, I want to give you something to show my appreciation, but I don’t think I have anything on me. I could paint you something, perhaps.”

“Actually, I had something in mind.” Link nervously tapped at the Sheikah Slate and pulled up one of the Princess’s photos. “Do you know where this is?”

Pikango examined the Slate carefully. “A large gate and a snowy mountain beyond it… At the base of Mount Lanayru, on the west side of Naydra Snowfield, lies that gate.” He handed the Slate back to Link. “You know, they say that the Princess of Hyrule used a spring at the top of the mountain to purify herself. But no one can get to the top—you’ll need an endless supply of elixirs to handle the cold, and in places the snow is twice as thick as you are tall, my friend!”

Link grasped Pikango’s hand tightly. “I truly appreciate your help. Thank you, Pikango.”

He took a few moments to find out the spot on the map where Pikango had suggested the gate lay. He set down a stamp in lieu of a Waypoint. Maybe he’d find it on his way North from Hateno, to meet Divine Beast Vah Ruta.

Link fast traveled back to Hateno and left the village to gather wood. Knocking down trees was a simple task with the bomb rune, and soon he had enough wood to satisfy Bolson.

He returned to the village and entered the General Store. He was excited to see Hylian Rice on the counter, along with milk. But he had to buy a house, first.

He sold a handful of jewel fragments and most of the herbs he’d scavenged that afternoon. He even managed to sell some of the rusted weaponry he’d picked up.

“Enough people come through here,” Pruce said, “that there’s a market for just about everything.”

Link did some math and hurried to go find Bolson. He and his men were gathered around the large, communal cooking pot near the vacant house, enjoying their dinners.

Bolson jumped up when he saw Link approach. “Special de-liv-er-yyy!” he sang.

“I’ll pay your price,” Link panted. “Thirty bundles of wood and three thousand rupees.”

“Seriously?! You’re really gonna give me three thousand rupees? Like, with three zeroes? You aren’t just posturing?”

Link laughed. “I’ll shell out!” He sat down on the ground to rummage through his pack and begin unloading his goods. Bolson covered his mouth delicately at the sight.

“How studly,” he murmured, delight in his eyes. “Well, there’s a weapon mount in there that never sold… Consider it a housewarming gift!” He clapped his hands. “Gentlemen, Link will be joining us for our celebration. I’ve decided.”

The men cheered raucously. “What are you all celebrating?” Link asked. He accepted a meat skewer and a cup of something warm and fizzy.

“Hudson here is going to be making his way to Akkala to expand the business,” Bolson proclaimed.

Hudson waved shyly from his position against the tree. “I’m impressed,” he said. “You really just bought a house, and you’re just a pup.”

“Uh… come again?”

“Don’t mind him,” another of Bolson’s employees said. “He’s a little woozy. We’ve been celebrating for a while.”

“That reminds me, I said I’d head off before it got dark—so I should probably do that.” Hudson stood. “If you’d like, you should come to the Akkala region and say hello. I imagine I’ll be there for a while, clearing land.”

Everyone cheered and raised their glasses to Hudson as he downed his own and set off into the evening. Bolson nudged Link in the ribs. “So the both of us sort of hit a personal milestone, huh?” he said. “Are you going to kick back and get LEISURELY, baby?”

Link shook his head. “I’m actually just starting out,” he explained. “I have a long way to go.”

“Well, now you have a cozy place to come back to!” Bolson glanced at the empty house and its gaping, doorless entryway. “Okay, maybe not cozy. Lemme help by taking care of furniture, or the exterior, or anything, really, for five thousand rupees. Not all at once, I mean. Just when you feel like furnishing the place.” He paused again, running his fingers through his close-cropped beard. “On second though, no. You’re just starting out. How about we start at a hundred rupees?”

Link’s heart was filled with warmth. “Thank you, Bolson. I really appreciate your generosity.”

“Ha!” Bolson snorted and looked away. “Manners look good on you, sweetie. They really do.”

Link wasn’t sure how to reply; he could feel his face turning red and sensed that that was Bolson’s desired reaction anyway. “I really want to get a soft bed in there someday, and a door.”

“Of course.” Bolson chuckled. “We all want a nice soft bed to come home to.”

“And someone to keep it warm!”

The construction workers tittered with laughter as Link’s ears turned red too. He ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can find that here in Hateno,” he said nervously.

“Then you better hurry off then and scour the wild for one, then." Bolson waved dismissively. "We’ll have a bed and a door waiting for you whenever you get back.”


	13. Shelter from the Storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got to the memories. :)

Link slept at the inn once again, and in the morning he left for good. He went through the town to purchase what goods he could carry and collected his new, fitted armor from the tailor. It was heavy enough to slow his pace, but he felt that it would withstand quite a boko beating. Besides, he needed to practice his swordsmanship, and running drills in his armor would certainly increase his speed and maneuverability.

Meghan and Nat found him as he packed his saddlebags outside the inn. He was alerted to their presence by the most delicious smells, and when he turned he found them laden with a heavy bag of cooked and wrapped meals.

“Not all of this is for you,” Meghan said quickly. “This is our livelihood, here. Hearty goods. But we wanted to be sure you had a taste of them before you left.”

“Thank you,” Link replied. “I meant to thank you for the soft bed, too. That was very kind of you.”

Nat snorted. “Kind? It’s the least we could do after you _saved our lives._ Now, take these rice balls.”

He accepted them gratefully and tried not to let his hunger show on his face. Meghan seemed to see it anyway. “The thing about hearty truffles, and _big_ hearty truffles, is that they seem to increase your whole being—your vitality, your strength, your resilience. We don’t think you need any help in that regard, seeing how you handled those bokos, but it’s our specialty so we wanted to offer it anyway.”

“Thank you,” he said again. “I will certainly need it. And I’ll think of both of you.”

Nat blushed a little. “We travel all around Hyrule, so hopefully we’ll run into you on your travels!”

“Maybe you’ll even run into us,” Meghan said. “Be safe”

He nodded, and as they turned their backs he scarfed down a rice ball. It was delicious and meaty with an herby, earthy aroma that filled him up instantly. He found that he was quite satisfied with just one rice ball—though the taste alone tempted him to eat the second. Instead, he re-wrapped it and put it in with the other meals he’d prepared for his journey.

He had decided to drop Prayer off at the Dueling Peaks Stable and fast travel back to the Great Plateau. It would take him a while, on foot, to explore the area below the Plateau and find his way north to Vah Medoh from there. He hoped that the route wouldn’t be too snow-clogged, but his short conversation with the general store owner had assured him that he’d avoid the worst of the Tabantha range by approaching from the southwest. He also hoped that by making the journey on foot, Prayer would have time to be sent to a stable that was a little closer to the Divine Beast.

Link was nearing Fort Hateno when he saw the traveler. She flagged him down and waited for him to dismount before speaking.

“I can tell you’ve trained your body well…” Her voice was coy, but instead of making him blush, her words made his skin crawl with discomfort. She began to walk around him in a slow half-circle, eying him carefully. “I’d say… you’re familiar with both sword and bow, correct?”

He remained silent, trying not to reach preemptively for his sword.

“It’s a good skill set,” she assured him. “Why don’t you join the Yiga Clan?”

“What?” Link hadn’t pegged the mysterious traveler as a missionary or a recruiter for a cult or an organization—she seemed laden with wares like any other merchant on the road.

She covered her mouth in shock and horror. “What?” she gasped. “You don’t know? Fine… I’ll tell you.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “How do I put this?”

Link nearly jumped out of his skin as she stepped toward him, clapping her hands excitedly. “It’s just a powerful, brave group of warriors, founded by Master Kohga and dedicated to defeating a hero thought long dead! Isn’t it the best?”

Link didn’t waste a moment. He drew his sword.

The woman pouted for a split second, then readied herself for battle. “I will take your life, Hero!” she hissed. In a cloud of red fire and paper shreds, she transformed into a terrifying warrior dressed head-to-toe in skintight red body armor. Her face was obscured by a mask that bore the Sheikah emblem—only the eye was turned upside down. In her hand was a vicious sickle, which she twirled menacingly.

She sprang back out of range, falling into a crouch, her sickle clutched before her. Link raised his shield and tried to predict her attack, only for her to stand, move her arms in a strange pattern, and disappear into a puff of smoke. He waited nervously for her to reappear in the bushes, and he was not prepared for her to materialize above him and crash heavily to the ground, sickle first.

Fortunately, he heard her distant laughter above him just in the nick of time and hopped one step to the side.

He swiped at her with his sword, but she too hopped to the side, then leaped backwards out of his range once more. He knew she wouldn’t use the same trick twice in a row, so he prepared for the charge that must come.

She did a backflip from her crouched position and then used the momentum to spring her forward, again with the sickle leading the way.

Link planted himself in her path, staring deep into the upside down Sheikah eye. At the last second, he stepped out of the way and out of the moment itself.

Once again, time slowed to a crawl; his own movements were heavy with his inertia, but he brought his sword down on the Yiga’s exposed back. The flurry rush took hold of him, and he capitalized on the opening.

The vicious sickle landed at Link’s feet, and the wounded Yiga was sent spinning into the dirt. She shrieked at him with inhuman fury and vanished into a puff of smoke and scrolls.

Link stood there with a blank mind. His shoulders were hunched under a strange weight; he breathed heavily through his nose in sharp bursts. Blood dripped from his sword.

It was smeared across the ground, in the grass, even on the bank of the river. Rupees lay scattered at his feet.

He held his breath for a moment, then exhaled slowly and bent to clean his blade in the grass. She was not a mindless little creature. This was not like killing a boko. This woman had chosen to make an attempt on his life, and she was clearly a trained and skilled opponent. _She had lain in wait for him,_ even.

Link pocketed her rupees—and the bunch of bananas that she had also dropped. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever had them, or if he liked them—or maybe they were poisoned, but he supposed he would find out sooner or later.

With painstaking slowness, Link retrieved Prayer and lifted himself into the saddle once more.

 

Link said goodbye to Prayer and handed her off to the stable hands at Dueling Peaks. He thanked the Goddesses—and Hestu—that he could fit all of her saddlebags in his sack, and he headed behind the stable for some privacy.

Night was falling when he finally rematerialized at the top of the Great Plateau Tower. He was thankful for the darkness; as the light dwindled, Shrines and Towers stood out against the backdrop of night. He could see another Tower almost directly to his north, so he set a Waypoint there, but it was a distant spec—certainly out of reach that night, on foot. Even the nearest Shrine, to his northwest, seemed foolishly far.

Link tried to convince himself that the reason he was hesitant to go north from the Great Plateau wasn’t because he feared the roads. The Yiga assassin had disguised herself so well as a traveler, and he didn’t know what he would do if he encountered a second assassin that night. Yet he didn’t want to make camp quite yet.

Link looked down at the Slate and tried to reassess his plan of attack. From the Great Plateau, a vast swath of nothingness met him, interrupted only by the Waypoints he’d placed and the distant gold markers of the Divine Beasts.

He felt a twinge of shame as he traveled back to the Dueling Peaks Tower, but it was mitigated by the fact that he wasn’t wasting too much time in the travel. He was a little relieved to find that he could see a Shrine not too far away, and that it lay in his direction of travel. He could accomplish that, tonight, at least. Besides—he had missed this Shrine when he first crossed Proxim Bridge, and he felt it irresponsible to let it sit unactivated while he continued on.

Link glided down the river as far as he could and crossed Proxim Bridge once more. The night was cool as he trekked up the hill, following the river’s bend. Foxes and squirrels ran out of his path. The night sky was clear, but a storm system crackled to the southeast. He stood on the Travel Gate of the Bosh Kala Shrine and watched the clouds and determined that it was headed in roughly his direction.

He hoped it would dissipate or weaken over the mountain range, but he hurried to complete the Shrine anyway. It was a relatively straightforward puzzle, and his footing was sure; he collected more large shards of amber in the Shrine and a soldier’s claymore in addition to Bosh Kala’s spirit orb.

He beat the storm, but not by much. He could feel the change in the air the moment he stepped out of the Shrine, and as he reached for his shield he shocked himself on it from the static electricity in the air. Link quickly stowed most of his metallic weaponry and replaced it with the Guardian sword and a boko shield. He drew up his hood just as the first raindrop fell, and he set about to look for a shelter from the storm.

Across the river, he saw a large stone structure that looked as though it may be a hut. He paraglided across the river and scrambled up the hill to find that, while he had not come across a hut, it was a shelter of sorts. Two short, squat idols sat underneath the lip of the alcove, and there was space enough for a small campfire or a bedroll—but not both.

Link dipped underneath the alcove and found it dry and cool. The smell of wet earth filled his senses, and the storm finally rolled over him. Link pulled out the Slate to pass the time and examined each of Zelda’s photos carefully. He dwelt on each of them for a time and tried to place them on his map based on the proximity and angle of the Castle in the distance, but it felt like a largely futile effort.

He swiped at the screen restlessly to pull up the next photo and fell still. The large bridge in the distance, the two squat figures… _This was the place._

Link jumped up and stepped into the rain. He held the Slate far in front of him as he circled around the monument and tried to find the exact angle Zelda had taken the photo from. Finally, he found it.

Rain pelted him, and lightning cracked across the bridge in the distance, but Link was barely conscious of it all. He was standing where she had stood, and that was all that mattered.

A terrible flood of emotions overcame him. Everything was suddenly so very real: he had been there before, but had no recollection of it at all. The princess had stood there, perhaps with him, and yet he still could not recall her face, her voice. His failure, though he could not remember that, either, overwhelmed him. But she was real, she was flesh and blood and not just a distant Goddess. She was Zelda.

Link’s vision blurred with tears, and he stowed the Slate so that he could scrub at his face with both hands. He felt dizzy, disoriented, exhausted, and he dropped to one knee in the mud.

He bowed his head and ran his hands through his hair. It felt like remembering a dream. He tried to recall the feeling of being there with her, the sound of her voice. Had it been raining then, too?

Yes. It had.

 

_He had been working through his drills with the sword, a blade that was as long as he was tall and as wide as his forearm; it was light enough to wield single-handed, but these drills called for two. He was frustrated. He was trying to exert himself._

_“I doubt this will let up anytime soon…”_

_He could hardly hear her over his breath, but he had strained his ears to catch every word. He had wanted to know exactly what she thought, exactly why she was so melancholy._

_He could, quite easily, feel the intensity of her gaze on his back as he stabbed and slashed at invisible foes. The follow-through for each move taxed him._

_“Your path seems to mirror your father’s… You’ve truly dedicated yourself to becoming a knight, as well.”_

_He executed a complicated sequence of moves—a block upwards with one hand, a downward blow, a stab, a change of direction—and caught the sword in two hands once more. He paused for a split second. He had wanted to turn to her in that moment, to say something._

_“Your commitment to the training necessary to fulfill your goal is really quite admirable.”_

_He turned to her, finally, or at least enough to look at her. Her expression was peaceful and contemplative, but it was distant. She stared through him at the ground._

_“I see now why you would be the Chosen One.”_

_The Princess smiled softly, bitterly, and closed her eyes for a moment too long. He wondered if she were about to cry. He had been waiting for this moment, but he did not know what he would do._

_She looked away and blinked slowly at her hands. Tears shone in her eyes but did not fall._

_“What if… one day you realized that you just weren’t meant to be a fighter. Yet the only thing people ever said was that you were born into a family of the royal guard, and so no matter what you thought, you had to become a knight.”_

_Look at me, he had thought. She did not look up._

_“If that was the only thing that you were ever told… I wonder, then… would you have chosen a different path?”_


	14. Resolve.

Link picked himself up out of the mud and walked toward the alcove. But _she_ had sat there, one hundred years ago, and he could not bring himself to sit there now.

Instead he leaned against the overhanging lip of the shelter and stared down at the little statues as he tried to come to grips with what he had seen, what he had remembered, what he had felt.

It was strange, because these weren’t like the memories he had of _now_. A week ago, he had stepped out of the cave; he could, now in this moment, recall that he had felt fresh air on his face for the first time in one hundred years. He had felt exhilarated, hopeful, fresh; he knew that these feelings had happened, but now they were cold and distant facts in his past. But _this_ memory came with a different kind of feeling, as though he had just relived the moment anew. His heart and his mind still raced to figure out what he could have said, might have said, to Zelda.

Well, at least now he had the answer to his question from days ago. The princess who had spoken to him with such warmth and certainty upon his awakening—she had always known her destiny, been told of what she would become. But she had not accepted it lightly or resolutely.

Instead, she had asked— _would you have chosen a different path?_

He hoped he had told her _yes_. He wanted to tell her that now. But what would he have chosen? Where would he have traveled, what would he have done?

Link ran a hand through his soaking hair and tried to fix it back away from his face. The ponytail was unpleasantly tight and the tie tangled in his hair, but it kept him focused on the present.

He needed to figure out why she’d chosen this memory to return to him. Was it because of its meaning to her, the doubt she’d shown in herself, the longing she had for a different path than what fate had dealt her? Did he even remember _enough_ of that day to know what she’d intended? Had he spoken with her afterward, or did he remain silent, did he never comfort her in her moment of doubt?

Or was she trying to tell him, now, one hundred years after his first death, that he did not have to choose this path for himself again?

He curled his fist and smacked it into the stone he leaned against. No, he was too far down the path to know what other routes he might have taken. He had not chosen this path because the King had told him he was a courageous knight. He had not chosen this path because ancient monks whispered to him about the promise of a hero. He did not choose this path because Hylia had told him to bring peace to Hyrule.

Though Hylia would give him the physical strength he needed to continue on, it was the Princess's faith in him, despite his past failure, that gave him the courage now to try.

He chose this path—and he would continue to choose it again and again—because his heart ached for Hyrule. 

 

Link did not sleep. Instead, the moment the storm passed, he changed into his Sheikah Armor and set off along the road headed west.

It was morning when he reached the Gatepost Town Ruins. He paused there to drink some sweetened milk atop the highest stone column and took the lay of the land. He could see a birch forest directly north of him, and wild horses roaming beyond that.

He glided down from his perch, re-energized, and set off at a good pace along the road. Just as he reached a bend in the road beneath the Oman Au Shrine, he caught sight of the traveler. He was crouched in the grass, a hand raised to shield his face against the rising sun. He seemed to be on the lookout for someone or something.

Link backpedaled quickly to avoid being seen, especially in his Sheikah garments. He did not want to risk another ambush by a Yiga clansmen—at least, not this early in the morning. Instead, Link hurried to the tree line.

He passed silently between the glistening white trunks of the birch forest. Even the deer did not notice him until he was quite close; his light footsteps were muffled in the wet grass, and his white armor shone in the morning light just like the trees.

He came to a clearing and looked out at the lake. It was clear and still, and it seemed quite shallow throughout. An island sat in the center, and off to the right was a small ruined fortification.

Link bent to pick up a stone and sent it skipping across the lake’s surface, though it was probably foolish to do so. The noise sent birds flapping and squawking into the sky. He looked up to watch their departure and wait for any would-be attackers, but none came. Instead, he remembered the Divine Beast that awaited him to the north.

 

_“To think, that Divine Beast was actually built by people…”_

_The gravel crunched underfoot with the familiar rhythm of her gait, and he followed exactly three steps behind. His footsteps matched hers, silent in their similarity._

_“You know, that means we should be able to fully understand how they work and how to use it to our advantage.”_

_Her demeanor had changed, and even her stride had lengthened as she approached the matter like a Commander, not like a Princess. Her resolve was unmatched._  

_“These Divine Beasts… there’s so much yet we do not know, but they are our best hope.”_

_And then—the confidence left her. She stopped in her tracks, and the Sheikah Slate nearly fell from her hands as they dropped to her sides. He waited, as he always did, three steps behind but one ahead._  

_“How proficient are you right now, wielding that sword on your back?” She looked over her shoulder but did not meet his gaze. “Legend says that an ancient voice resonates inside it. Can you hear it yet… Hero?”_

 

Her words hit him in the chest like a blow, and they sent him reeling back away from the water’s edge. He had though himself wise to her at that point, but the accusatory tone in her voice had caught him off guard. It still caught him off guard.

The memory had been a flash, a sudden rush of sensation and emotion. It had been moments like that that reminded him that she was the _Princess Commander,_ that she had been preparing for this role her whole life, and he was her soldier. Yet he could not recall other moments where she had ordered him, questioned him as his superior officer. He just knew his feelings in that moment: a nervous flutter in his stomach, his heart stopped in his chest, and, as always—no idea what to say to her. No idea what she wanted him to say.

And Link didn’t know if he _had_ heard the voice of the sword. It was news to him, now, that it even had one. Again, he wondered… what had become of it since his fall?

_Separated from its master, the Goddess Sword called out for a hero…_

He could not hear its call, now. What did that mean?

 

He reached the stable in the late morning, and his Sheikah Sensor seemed to be going ballistic. He followed the intensity of its vibrations to the Rota Ooh Shrine nestled in the hills behind the stable.

This was a challenge unlike the others he had faced. He quickly figured out how to get the Sheikah sphere, but getting it into the lock was a slightly more abstract challenge; then he needed a key, and he had to go back and search for that.

He finally figured out how to reach the monk, but when he landed on the monk’s platform he caught a glimpse of the treasure chest high above the trial—and he decided that it was worth going back and redoing it all just to see what was in it.

_Rito craftsmen forged this lightweight, double-edged sword so Rito warriors could soar into battle unhindered by its weight._

Now, this was a two-handed weapon that Link liked.

He changed out of his Sheikah armor and returned to the stable, where he was immediately flagged down by an old man sitting outside.

“Say, traveler… Have you seen a pure-white horse anywhere?”

“Not today,” Link said. “I have journeyed from the south.”

The old man sighed. “The thing is, just the other day, one of our customers said he saw a white horse on Safula Hill. Recently!”

Link was about to ask why a white horse was so important to this somber old man, but he was silenced by the bittersweet smile the old man directed at him.

“A long time back, my grandfather told me that he once saw the royal family’s white horse grazing on Safula Hill… I heard there was no greater beauty in life than a royal stallion—but of course, my grandfather may have been a little biased… We are horse people, you know.”

“Where’s Safula Hill?” Link asked. “I’m on my way to the Rito. Is it on the road?”

“Why, yes.” The old man leaned down to draw with his finger in the sandy dirt. “The road from here turns, then doubles back on the other side of the river. Just north of the crossing is Safula Hill. It’s on the only road north from here to the Rito—at least, the only one we can cross without wings.”

“If I see a white horse, I will return and let you know,” Link assured him.

The old man lay a hand on his shoulder. “That would be very kind of you,” he said earnestly, “and make this old man quite satisfied with his life.”

Link went inside the stable and found Beedle there, napping beneath the bobbing flag with their own face on it.

“Beedle!” Link crossed the room quickly, and his heavy footsteps roused the merchant. Beedle remembered him instantly.

“Linky!” Beedle cried, “Can I call you that?”

Link didn’t mind it as much out of Beedle’s mouth. Purah, however… he’d have to talk to her. “You wouldn’t be the first. What do you have today?”

“Good things! Lots of elixir materials here.” Beedle showed him the recipes for hearty elixirs and stamina elixirs, and Link relieved him of his arrows and hearty lizards. “If you’re going north, you might want a stamina elixir,” Beedle cautioned. “It’s easy to fall down a crag—and then you have to climb all the way back up again!”

Link thanked him and went to the stable owner to inquire about Prayer’s progress. “She won’t be here for a day or two,” Embry told him. “I can have her sent right along to the Rito stables if you’d like.”

“I think that will be necessary.” Link considered it for a moment, then slapped his hand on the counter. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“You aren't thinking about going after that royal stallion, are you?” Embry raised his eyebrows. “It’s very shy, I don’t know if that old man told you that. Even the faintest sound, a change of wind, will send it galloping off.”

 _This seems right up my alley,_ Link thought. “I might as well try,” he said, and left.


	15. Grief.

Hours passed, and yet Link never got within five feet of the stallion before it smelled him, noticed him, or simply decided to romp in the grass on the other side of the hill. Link’s legs were cramping from an afternoon spent crouched low in the grass, and his nose itched beneath his scarf. He had been momentarily tempted to abandon this quest, but stubborn resolve kept him from running north.

 _You’ve got eyes that tell me you’re itching to get in the saddle,_ the Dueling Peaks stable manager had told him. And he was. He felt a connection to this horse, though it may have been wishful thinking. If he were to admit it—and he had plenty of time to think to himself, as he waited for this horse to get close enough—he simply wanted something _real_ to connect him to Zelda.

Finally, Link was able to creep dangerously close to the horse’s hind quarters; he was so close, in fact, that he could see the individual tangles in its long, wild tail.

He did not hesitate. His muscles sprang from their aching, coiled position and launched him over the horse’s haunches. He grabbed fistfuls of mane, squeezed his knees tight, and tried to ignore the haunted, inhuman shrieks that emanated from beneath him.

Link buried his face in the horse’s neck and tried to sooth it, even as he fought to stay seated from the bucking, rolling force of nature between his legs. He did not see where the horse was headed, and it did not matter. All that mattered was staying on.

He knew he was going to be bruised, badly, when all was said and done, but it would be worth it if he could JUST. HOLD. ON!

The world finally stopped rocking, and Link sat quietly with his companion. “Are you done?” he asked it breathlessly.

The horse tossed its head and nickered as if to give its assent. The moment Link tried to guide it back to the road, however, it reared back and tried to toss him. Link had anticipated as much. He dug in to the horse’s sides with his knees and tightened his grip on its mane. “I can offer you many apples, my friend,” he said through his teeth. “But first we must go to the stable.”

They stopped several times in the middle of the road, for every time it seemed the horse had come to terms with being ridden, it would try to buck him, or throw him off its front end by kicking out its rear legs. Link ached, and could hardly stand when he arrived at the Outskirts Stable and finally dismounted.

Embry sat open-mouthed and dumbstruck at his window as Link soothed his new companion and offered it a whole bushel’s worth of apples.

“I need to register him immediately,” Link said. “We have a long way to go, together.”

Embry shook his head and gathered the paperwork. “Do you have a name?”

Link thought of the ice-bound peaks that hid a sacred spring, where the Princess herself had ventured for purification. He thought of her golden hair.

“Lanayru,” Link said softly.

Embry shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

“Ho there!”

Link nearly jumped out of his skin, and his horse rolled its eyes in fear as the old man approached. He immediately stopped, seeming contrite, but the light in his eyes did not fade.

“You brought the royal family’s white horse! Well, I’ll be… Grandpa wasn’t lying!” He came a little closer and drew a carrot from his pocket, which Lanayru immediately honed in on. The old man laughed as the horse cantered toward him to take the carrot, all fear gone. “What a magnificent piece of horseflesh. You are a strong young man—well, the both of you are.” He sighed happily and patted the horse gently on its soft nose. “You have made my life. Staying alive in this godforsaken land may just have been worth it after all.”

Link approached, the stable’s local bridle and saddle slung over his shoulders. “I named him Lanayru,” he told the old man. “I heard that the Princess went to the mountain to purify herself before the Goddess, and he is pure-white like a snowcap.”

The old man looked at him with tears in his eyes. He reached out and shook Link’s hand. “My name is Toffa. I was named for my grandfather, who handed something down to me that I would like to hand down now to you.”

He went to the back of the stable and returned with a heavy chest. He set it down at Link’s feet. “Please.”

Link could already guess what it was. “Your family were the royal grooms,” he guessed.

“Yes,” said Toffa. “I would like to present you the royal family’s saddle and bridle. It was custom-fitted for the Princess’s very horse.”

The old man helped him outfit Lanayru with the saddle, bridle, and adornments of the royal family, and Link fancied that Lanayru knew how well they fitted him. The horse tossed its head proudly and snorted, as if to say, _who else would it fit?_

“The white horse that Princess Zelda rode… The one my grandfather told me about when I was little…” The old man wiped his eyes. “The sight of her riding atop the white horse was supposed to be a beauty beyond words. I can only imagine how beautiful she must have been, to rival this magnificent beast.”

Link hid his face in Lanayru’s neck and did not answer immediately. He _knew_. He could not forget those green eyes, whose color and radiance surpassed any known jewel. He, too, wished to see her ride—and now… there was the chance that he might.

He pressed a soft kiss to the horse’s shoulder and led it around to be shod at the back of the stable. Lanayru dealt with the indignity of it all as admirably as Link expected of such a proud beast.

When they finally set out together, Lanayru was still quite ornery. Link did not push his horse and was quite satisfied with the slow, leisurely pace they set. It allowed him to take the time to soothe Lanayru, to assure him of his safety and of his important role in Link’s journey.

“We have a long, long way to go together,” Link murmured as the shadows grew long beneath them. “They told me I must cross a desert and enter a volcano—least of all, face that monster engulfing our princess.” He paused. “Zelda.”

The more he talked, the less resistance he felt between his legs. Nevertheless, they did not make too much progress on their journey, and Link made the decision to camp for the night just as they passed Safula Hill. Link preferred having the high ground, so he dismounted and led Lanayru up the hill and further along the ridge. He had seen something in the distance that seemed to promise a safe night under the stars.

The fountain still ran, though the monument was overgrown with flowers and grass. Each set of stairs was accompanied by a ramp beside it—clearly meant for both equestrian and Hylian traffic. At the top, several hitching posts were lined up against a pool of fresh water, to allow horses to drink and rest while their riders rested on benches nearby, all under the gaze of the prominent horse statue. It was of a mare, rearing, and bedecked with a set of equestrian armor that bore a sign Link recognized from the Temple of Time: the Triforce.

Link hitched Lanayru and set about making camp. He did not require a campfire, for the night was blessedly warm and the moon was full. Instead, he went to the far end of the park and looked out over the ridge as he ate his meal.

A light in the sky eventually drew his attention back to the west. The single mountain that stood against the night sky was wreathed in bands of blue and green light. They were unfurled like banners and moved like flags, too, and Link was entranced by them. He did not ask Lanayru to journey on, however; he knew the stallion was still learning to trust him, and Link did not know what danger lay ahead. Yet Link could not tear his eyes away from the strange lights.

He unpacked his bedroll and lay on his side to watch the aurora dance and fade behind the statue of the mare. Eventually, he drifted to sleep.

 

_The evening sun caught the royal emblems and reflected fiercely into his eyes, yet he did not urge his steed ahead or pull it behind. They rode side-by-side, the Princess and her Knight._

_“’Be sure to take the time to sooth your mount,’” she murmured, reached forward to stroke her horse’s muscular neck. “’That’s the only way it will know how you truly feel.”_

_Zelda looked up at him briefly, and he caught a glimpse of her radiant smile from the corner of his eye. When he turned to look at her, she looked away, but the smile remained in her voice._

_“Your advice was quite helpful, thank you. This little one and I are getting along quite well now.”_

_She tossed her head to clear her face of windswept hair. Though her Princess Voice soon returned, he was keenly aware of the gentleness and honesty with which she had just spoken, and he vowed to remember what it sounded like._

_“At first, I wasn’t sure if I should outfit him with all of the royal gear. I thought, maybe he should have to earn it, first. But—it works!” She laughed. “He wears it like a true natural.”_

_She turned to look at him now, fully. “I’m trying to be a bit more empathetic,” she offered. “Benefit of the doubt, you know?”_

_He smiled at her, and she looked away, chin tucked, but he could tell that she was smiling too._

 

Link woke from his dream and remembered. He did not remember dying, nor had he heard a multitude of voices calling out for him— _Hero_. Instead, he remembered the heat of the sun on his face from the west as it set. He remembered the warmth of her smile.

They had hitched their mounts at that very fountain and camped just as he did, one hundred years later. She had looked out at the mountain in the distance, and he had watched at her, framed against the setting sun.

Her gaze was burned into his memory, his soul: she had turned to him with despair in her eyes, resigned to failure. 

 

_“—Mount Lanayru… it takes its name from the Goddess of Wisdom… Lanayru’s decree is very specific. It says, ‘No one is allowed, under the age of seventeen, for only the Wise are permitted a place upon the mountain._

_“I’ve prayed at the Spring of Courage and at the Spring of Power, yet neither awoke anything inside of me. But maybe up there.. The final of the three… T_ _here is always the chance that the next moment will change everything._

_“Tomorrow is my seventeenth birthday,”_ _she said. “So then I shall go… and_ _make my way up the mountain.”_

 

And Link remembered why he loved her.


	16. The Ancient Verse.

The aurora above the mountain had vanished, but he stared at its peak, unblinking. He could not form coherent thoughts except _fuck._

It was not even dawn, and the world was still, but it felt like it moved a mile a minute around him. Link could not keep up with the cacophony of restless crickets and the whisper of the wind. The world continued to turn, and yet his world had stopped.

He dug his fingers into his scalp with such force that it brought tears to his eyes, but they did not fall. He did not feel sorrow, nor did he feel regret—just betrayal.

_Did any of them know?_

Link desperately wanted to speak to Impa, but he would not leave Lanayru in the wilderness after working so hard to tame him.

_Did her father know?_

_Did_ she _know that I had loved her?_

Link did not have the answers, and he was not certain that any found memory could grant them to him, either. He did not even know if he loved her still.

“Hold on,” he told himself. “Think about it.”

Link stood and approached Lanayru; the horse was awake, and it watched him keenly. “She’s objectively beautiful,” he reasoned with the horse. “There are stories about it, and I’ve seen her. She’s saving the world from an ancient evil as we speak. And she needs me.”

Being duty bound to ensure the survival of Hyrule and its Princess did not seem quite as terrifying as it had. He would train, and he would arm himself, and he would storm the Castle sooner or later. That was laid out clearly before him by the Shrines and the legends that had taught him so much in so little time.

No one had prepared him to love a princess.

“Goddesses!” he swore through his teeth. “Either restore me to the man I was once, or let me be who I am in peace!”

Lanayru’s nostrils flared as he sensed Link’s frustration, and he pawed nervously at the ground. The sight of the horse’s discomfort brought Link back to himself, and he took a deep breath to steady himself.

“Maybe they’re trying to tell me that I don’t have the luxury of being my own person,” he murmured as he packed up his camp. “Maybe this always happens. Maybe I should just accept it. I’m the Knight of legend, off to save his Princess. That’s all they’ve deigned to tell me, anyway.”

He hoisted his saddlebags back over Lanayru’s mighty haunches and tightened the straps of his saddle. Link had never wished a horse could talk as much as he did at that moment. From what he sensed, however, Lanayru might have been far less helpful than Link would have liked.

He fumed against the Goddesses all morning as they rode. Nothing, not even the rising sun, soothed his nerves. But when the sound of a strange, breathy instrument reached his ears, he stirred himself and went in search of the source.

Lanayru lead him directly to the musician: a giant bird armed with an accordion.

Link pulled Lanayru right up to the musician’s perch atop a grassy rock, and it wasn’t until Link waved a little that the musician turned to him.

“Oh! Hello there,” he said pleasantly. “I did not hear you approach. I was lost in this song written by my late teacher. He passed away several years ago, you see… and this was the last song he taught me.” He gestured with his accordion, which wheezed melodically. “Excuse me. I fear I may have gotten carried away. Nostalgia will do that to a person. How do you—”

The musician froze, and Link could see the feathers on the back of his arms bristle.

“…Th-that there, on your hip!”

Lanayru backed up a step, and Link clutched the reigns tightly in his hand. Despite his stormy mood, he was not keen to do battle so early in the morning.

The musician hurried to soothe both man and beast. “No, I’m sorry—it’s nothing. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Link narrowed his eyes.

“Are you a…bird?”

“Have you…never met a Rito before?” Link shook his head. “Odd. Well, my name is Kass. As a bard, I spend my days traveling this land in search of ancient songs. Have you heard of the ancient songs of Hyrule?”

Link relaxed a little. This did not sound like a setup or an ambush. Come to think of it, Link didn’t imagine the Yiga would disguise themselves as giant bird people playing music—or at least, they wouldn’t draw out the ruse this long.

“No, I haven’t,” Link replied.

“Ancient songs—songs that sing the praises of a hero who beat back the Calamity in an age past. I know one about this place. Would you like to hear the ancient verse passed down in this region? It is quite short.”

“Sure, why not.”

Kass smiled placidly and stretched out his feathered arms to fill the accordion with air. Then, he began to sing.

 

 _“When a single arrow threads two wrings,_  
_The shrine will rise like birds on wings.”_

 

Kass paused. “Do you think the rings in the song refer to these oddly shaped rocks?” He nodded at one such formation, and indeed, Link thought that it resembled a ring. “And what of the shrine? There’s a mystery to be uncovered here, that’s for sure. And I get the feeling the truth is beyond my wildest imagination.”

Link met the bard’s gaze, and he wondered if he was recognized. Despite the fact that Kass had clearly recognized the Sheikah Slate, he was not sure.

“May the light illuminate your path,” Kass said quietly. “Let me know if you would like to hear any more ancient songs while you are here.”

Link dismounted. He could not resist this archery practice disguised as a quest. These rings were positioned at such strange angles, it could take a while to find two that lined up just enough to thread them with bow and arrow.

He armed himself with a Knight’s bow, which had the least drop of all his options. He was quite thankful to have just purchased so many arrows off of Beedle, for he lost several in the tall grass and off the edge of the ravine. Kass made no comment, and indeed he pretended not to pay attention to his failed efforts. Link was grateful for that, and for the lighthearted tune that floated back to him on the wind from where the bard stood.

Finally, he found two rings that seemed _almost_ perfectly aligned, and he crouched to notch an arrow. When the tension in the bowstring broke, it snapped against the tender skin of his wrist and nearly made him drop the bow—but his arrow flew straight, in defiance of gravity, and sank only once it had flown through the second ring of stone.

Link stood. He intended to call out to Kass, but a loud, terrifying rumble interrupted him. He saw the bard jump high into the air and flutter back down, startled by the noise, and Lanayru ran off down the road a ways as the earth began to tremble.

And then Link saw the top of the Shrine breach the sandstone, and he nearly cheered.

When the dust cleared, Link ran over to the Shrine and activated its Travel Gate. He paused briefly to make eye contact with Lanayru, hoping that he would remain.

“I’ll watch him for you!” Kass called. “Go, explore!”

Link flashed the bard a thumbs-up and entered the Sheem Dagoze Shrine.

 

He was getting better at focusing on the timing of these things. If he really focused, he could move between the switches before one had deactivated, and activate the next.

He collected a Great Thunderblade below the distant, floating ramps. It had the unfortunate side effect of making his hair stand on end, and his clothes crackled with static electricity whenever he moved—but he could not help but _revel_ in this two-handed weapon forged in the Hyrule Hills with magic and Hyrulian lightning.

He kept it equipped as he exited the Shrine, and he nearly slipped on the bundle of arrows someone had left on the Travel Gate outside. He found Lanayru tied off nearby, nibbling on a pile of apples, but Kass was nowhere to be found.

 

Link reached the Tabantha Bridge Stable by mid-afternoon; Lanayru was faster than Prayer, but he was much less agreeable—no matter how many carrots and apples Link offered.

The Sheikah Slate led him to the Shae Loya Shrine, and he happily entered it, thinking that because it was so close to the stable it would be a quick puzzle like the others he had encountered. He was sorely mistaken. After staring at the complex mechanism of the Shrine for several minutes, Link decided to sit and eat his dinner while he pondered the solution.

Above his head, a wooden platform was suspended by two ropes. He couldn’t see what was on top if it, nor could he see any way to climb to its height. He could waste more arrows to slice each rope, he supposed.

Link finally stood and took aim. With one arrow, he managed to throw the platform off balance, and it dropped its heavy metal chest.

Inside was one of the best bows he had seen to date—and certainly one of the most beautiful. The Falcon bow was feather-light in his hand, and its bowstring seemed to thrum at a better frequency than the others. He kept it equipped and ventured further into the Shrine.

In the distance, a tall metal fence obscured his view of a giant Sheikah orb so heavy that when it landed, Link felt the vibrations in his chest. He fired a single arrow at the orb as it bounced high in the air, but the arrow snapped upon impact and did nothing to knock the orb from its path.

Then Link remembered his runes. He took aim with his Slate and selected Stasis for the job.

The Sheikah orb hung suspended in air, even as its pedestal punched up and retracted beneath it. Link quickly drew the Falcon bow once more and fired a second arrow; this time, its impact resonated through the whole orb, and Link felt satisfied with the transfer of momentum.

The Stasis lock broke, and the ball tumbled out of place. It missed its pedestal and rolled toward Link, down a ramp and right into its lock.

Link hadn’t noticed that he too was standing on a pedestal until he was flung into the air and had naught but a second to grab hold of his paraglider. He caught a glimpse of a second chest, behind where the orb had been tossed from, and he narrowly clipped the metal fence to claim his topaz.

He used the ball’s pedestal to lift him high into the air once more, and on his way down he saw a glowing orange light fixture hidden in an alcove above the monk’s sealed chamber.

A switch.

Link landed on the first punching pedestal again, but he found that it did not vault him high enough to aim at the switch. He flung himself back to the taller canon to try again.

A lot happened at once.

Link had to open his paraglider, then snap it shut and ready his bow, string an arrow, and aim—all at once. The first attempt was rather clumsy, and he ended up dropping both his bow and arrow in his haste to grab his paraglider again and slow his fall.

_Focus._

Crouched on the ground where he’d landed, his bow and arrows scattered before him, Link heard the voice again. It was not Ta’loh Naeg, and it was not the Goddess. It was his.

Link focused—not on the task at hand, but on the voice. “Speak to me,” he demanded. “The Goddess speaks to me, separate from the Princess. Why can’t you?”

The Hero was silent.

Link dragged himself back to the pedestal and launched himself up again. He focused on the feeling of weightlessness that took hold on him just before gravity took hold of his body. He knew this was what the Hero had meant, and he was beginning to understand the greater implication of Ta’loh Naeg’s lesson.

It wasn’t an easy thing to do, step out of time. He hit the ground hard more than once as he tried and failed. Finally, after a particularly nasty spill, Link leaned back against the wall of the Shrine and gave up—at least for a moment.

“You train me to fight, to be cunning, but I need to _understand_ , don’t I?” he asked the empty chamber. “Fine. Point me and loose me like an arrow.”

No one answered him, and why would they? There was no possibility that he would turn back now, and he was determined to master this skill before him. He was just frustrated, and scared, and confused, and there was no living being he felt would understand. Even he did not fully understand what burdened him.

He sighed and stood once more to tackle the challenge of the Shrine, but he did so with the sinking feeling that even if he fully realized this power to slow time to his advantage, he still wouldn’t be the true Hero of Time.

“Focus,” Link told himself. “Right.”

He shook himself and jumped a little to get blood moving in his limbs. If Zelda could go to all of those Springs and fail at awakening her power, and yet still have the strength to try again, he did, too.

Link felt the difference, this time. Time did not just slow. It stopped. He was suspended in the air, weightless and unaffected by time and gravity and the forces of nature. He released his paraglider and notched an arrow to his Falcon bow, and it exploded into sparks as it hit the switch.

Task complete, Link grabbed on to the paraglider again and floated down to Shae Loya. He fancied that the monk smiled at him from behind its hands, clasped in prayer.


	17. The Bridge to Tabantha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mopey Link continues, but not for much longer!

Link drank a cup of warm milk in the Stable’s soft bed and tried to work through the day’s regrets. He did not like feeling so angry and helpless; he did not want to walk with a storm over his head or any more weight on his shoulders than was already there.

Not much more than a week ago, he had sat in the Shrine of Resurrection and tried to find meaning to the names of legend: Hylia, Hyrule, Ganon, Sheikah… Zelda. They had been hollow names, unrecognized syllables that fell from his lips without consequence. All that he had known was his name and that he was vastly unprepared to take on the insurmountable destiny that awaited him outside the Shrine.

He had come a long way since then. In Hylia’s presence, he did not feel judged for doubting himself or fearing the road that lay ahead. She knew him, he felt; she had faith in him; she _would_ give him what he needed to succeed. And he had found that Hyrule’s beauty never ceased to take his breath away. The scars it bore pained him as if they were his own. The wilderness he traveled teemed with life, but that life was still threatened by bokos, stalfos, evil of all kinds.

Then there was Zelda..

 _His_ conception of Zelda was only a tangle of fleeting memories and the shame of knowing she deserved more. In the times she had spoken to him directly since his awakening, she did so with no trace of regret or disappointment. He _believed_ that she had faith in him.

But he  _knew_ that he had loved her. He knew it as certainly as he knew that the sun would rise in the morning. He had once chosen to die for her— _not_ for Hyrule, not for destiny. For her. A seventeen-year-old princess who was too ashamed to ask him for help so she spoke in riddles and what-ifs. She loved Divine Beasts and ancient technology and railed against the confines of her destiny.

The more he found out about her, the emptier the world seemed in her absence.

  
In the morning, Link dallied around the stable preparing for the journey ahead. Vah Medoh, though still far to the north, cast shadows across the land; it was a sobering reminder that, regardless of his feelings for the Goddess or the princess, he was meant to be the Hero.

Link restocked his quiver and made off with a Soldier’s broadsword and bow that had been left outside the stable. He felt a little guilty for pilfering them, but with them safely stowed in his sack, no one was the wiser.

Link returned to the front of the stable to request that Lanayru be readied for departure, and he was shocked to find Pikango the painter setting up his easel outside.

“What brings you here?” Link asked.

“The stark beauty of the ravines, the hope of spotting a dragon…and gossip, of course,” Pikango replied. He tapped out his paintbrushes and placed one behind his ear. “I imagine you’ve come for similar reasons, explorer!”

 _Explorer, huh?_ Link smiled at that. “I’d travel pretty far for good rumors,” he admitted.

“Then you’ll like this one.” Pikango nodded at a mustached man sitting by the cooking pot. “Toren over there told me about another Great Fairy Fountain that is said to be nearby. And then this chickaloo here—” the artist gestured at a small child braiding a horse’s tail nearby “—claims to know about a secret entrance to Hyrule Castle itself!”

Pikango chuckled, but Link made quick note to speak to both individuals immediately. Well, almost immediately. Though he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to seek out more of these lost memories, he knew he would regret passing up any hint he could get to their locations. “Would you mind taking a look at some other photos I’ve found?”

The artist nodded and looked over several of the images Zelda had saved in the Slate. “This one,” Pikango proclaimed, “must be close by… I would bet you that if you head just across this bridge and climb to the top of that outcropping on the left, you’ll find these ancient columns. Be careful, though, Link. The Rayne Highlands are moblin territory.”

“I’ll be on the lookout,” Link replied and went to talk to Toren about the Great Fairy. He found the man lost in thought, a half-eaten kabob in his hands.

“Hey, the artist told me you know something about a Great Fairy Fountain.”

Toren was startled by Link’s abrupt intrusion, but his face lit up with excitement. “You’ve heard of it?” he asked excitedly. “I’m on a journey to find them and pay my respects!”

“Yeah, I helped Pikango find one in East Necluda,” Link said.

Toren’s eyes sparkled. “There’s a tower just beyond the Tabantha Great Bridge. They say that if you go to the top and look down in the afternoon, its shadow will point right at the fountain! But I’m not much of a climber myself…”

Link raised his eyebrows. “I’ve climbed the Towers,” he said. “That’s easy enough. But I’m going to warn you now, if she’s anything like her sister, she’s going to want—”

“Lots of rupees?” Toren nodded. “I saved up all of mine as an offering. If… If you’re going to go find her anyway, would you bring my gift with you? It’s my life savings!”

Link’s jaw nearly hit the floor as the man pulled out five hundred rupees and offered them to him. There was nothing stopping him from pocketing them and going to buy an endless supply of arrows—except decency, of course. “Uh,” he said. “Sure.”

He took the rupees, but guilt robbed him of any satisfaction. He decided to be honest with the man. “Hey, look. I’m sure you’ll find it at some point yourself. It looks like a giant open flower with lots of gold and glittery things around it. I’m certain the Great Fairy will want to… _speak_ with you.”

Toren covered his mouth, his eyes wide. “Do you really think so?”

Link decided that it was best to end the conversation with the Fairy fanatic and simply gave the man a quick thumbs up before heading to pick up Lanayru.

The child Pikango had mentioned brought Lanayru out for him. “Hey mister, your horse is really cool! Almost as cool as this guy who came by here with _his_ REALLY cool-looking horse!”

“Ahh… thanks.” Link offered Lanayru an apple. “What was this man like?”

“He said he was a Royal Guardsman! He and his horse had matching armor!” The little girl cupped a hand to her mouth suddenly to whisper. “ I don’t believe him, you know. I think he was…a thief!”

“Probably,” Link admitted. “That’s very astute of you.”

“He also said that there’s a small secret tunnel west of the castle entrance,” the little girl continued, “and if you go through the tunnel, you can get _inside_ the castle! But shhh. It’s really dangerous, mister!”

Link knew _that_. “Thank you,” he told the stable girl. “Lanayru and I will be going in the opposite direction for now.”

“Oooh, pretty name.”

Lanayru finished his apple, and they set off. The Tabantha Great Bridge was treacherous, and he did not ask for speed at this time. Lanayru’s footing was sure as he picked boards that did not creak or snap and skirted holes in the bridge. Link tried not to focus on the terrifying fall that could await the two of them, and instead looked ahead for the enemies he would need to clear before making his way to the top of the cliff.

He supposed he would try to prepare himself for any sort of revelation that awaited him. He was still frustrated that the powers that be sent him so many mixed messages about whether or not he had to save the world and whether or not he was supposed to become who he _had been_ or try to be someone new.

Link felt adrift, and the only remedy he could think of was to live fully in the present. He was meeting interesting people, kind people, whose entire lives were unconcerned with the Calamity, the Hero, and the Princess. These interactions grounded him, made him content with being flesh and blood.

But he knew he was more than that.

Lanayru brought him to the base of the cliff and seemed perfectly content to wait. Link knew better than to trust him, though. “You’ll never find as many apples on your own without me,” he reminded the horse, patted its flank, and donned his climbing bandanna.

He reached the top of the cliff without much incident, and he found himself standing behind an unactivated Shrine. He was a little winded as he rounded it and went to activate its Travel Gate, and he had _just_ caught his breath when the first arrow struck.

He heard it whistling in the air before it reached him, and instinct flung him behind the stone Sheikah pedestal for cover. The moblin hadn’t had very good aim, and the arrow didn’t even fly through where Link had just stood—but it didn’t matter, because now the moblin was much, much closer. It didn’t need better aim.

Link lunged forward, shoulder-first, and rammed the moblin right in the knees.

 _Bigger they are,_ he thought with desperate satisfaction. _Harder they fall._

The moblin’s curled fist _crunched_ under Link’s boot, and he leaped back to avoid the monster’s enraged flailing. He was not wearing adequate armor for a true confrontation, for he had shed it at the beginning of his climb. He rolled on the ground to avoid a swinging fist, and the stones ate into his skin, but he did not have time to feel it.

He grabbed one of the moblin’s discarded arrows and flung himself at the monster once more. He jammed the arrow into the monster’s knee to cripple it and dodged out of the way as the monster collapsed, shrieking in pain.

Link had given himself enough time to draw his own weapon. He stalked over to the moblin, which crawled frantically toward its horn. Link crushed the horn under foot and raised his sword.

The moblin’s red eyes met his, and it bared its teeth—

Its roar became nothing more than a wet gurgle as Link liberated the moblin’s head from its body.

Link flicked his blade to rid it of the purple moblin blood and bent to pick up several teeth the moblin had lost in its fall to the ground. He still did not understand how these would fetch even a single rupee, but Beedle had told him they were valuable ingredients in elixirs. He stopped short of sawing off the moblin’s horn, for he had no sawtooth daggers to waste on the process.

He stood and approached the Shrine once more. This was indeed the place in Zelda’s photo, and he couldn’t help but begin to wonder why they had come here. He raised the Slate to finish activating the Shrine, and he froze.

This was different. This was not his own memory—and not in the sense that the person he had been was different than the person he was now. No, he felt Hylia’s touch in this. Her presence washed over him in waves, each pulse matching the beat of his heart.

Through the fog of Time, Link saw.


	18. Skywatcher.

_“We know that this structure was designed to be exclusively accessed by the sword’s chosen one,” Zelda said to herself thoughtfully. “So why can’t he open it?”_

Link pressed himself back against the door of the Shrine as the scene played out in his mind’s eye. He felt like he were seeing double: a world with Zelda, and the one without.

_Zelda placed the Slate against the Sheikah symbol once more. Her intense frown was clearly a common expression; the furrow between her brows ran deep. “Designs can always be worked around… at least, I hope.”_

_She looked up at the dead, dormant Shrine, and her brow cleared. Curiosity shone bright in her eyes. “We need to activate you somehow.”_

_The thunder of furious hooves brought the frown immediately back to her face. She set her jaw furiously and turned to face the horseman._

_Her Champion leaped from his horse even before it had come o a halt, and he jogged toward her. Zelda put her hands on her hips and took a threatening step forward. “I thought I made it clear that I am not in need of an escort.”_

_Link stopped in his tracks and stared at her. His expression was inscrutable._

_Zelda stomped closer, nose high in the air. “It seems I’m the only one with a mind of my own.” She patted her chest. “I, the person in question, am fine—regardless of the King’s orders.”_

_She stared Link down, but he did not cede. He simply blinked._

_“Return to the castle,” she ordered and brushed passed him to fetch her horse. She did not see the look on his face as he turned: carefully blank, but there was confusion in his eyes, and he was clearly at a loss for words._ _For a few moments, Link watched her storm off. Then he jogged after her to resume his rightful place three paces behind._

_He was visibly startled when she rounded on him and desperately shouted, eyes closed with the force of her anger: “And stop following me!_ ”

 

Link slid down the face of the Shrine and sat on the Travel Gate that he _still_ had not finished activating. He wasn’t sure if Hylia had shown him what had transpired because he had complained about the fragmented, disoriented feeling the memories gave him—or perhaps she had always planned on showing him that full moment, as it was, in all of its clarity.

Well, not clarity.

As clearly as the event had played out before him, Link was more confused than ever about the nature of his relationship with the princess. Watching himself like that, from afar, _completely_ detached from the emotions and gut feelings he had had one hundred years ago… He decided he much preferred reliving these memories, as troubled as they made him.

However, he didn’t need to re-inhabit the moment in order to know what had transpired before and after the princess had made her resentment known: he had followed her, three paces behind, until the day he died.

 

Link activated the Shrine but exited it as soon as he entered. _Goddess forgive me_ , he apologized to Tena Ko’sah, but he did not have the energy to fulfill a Major Test of Strength. It remained an orange maker on his map, and Link glided down from the Ancient Columns to find Lanayru right where he’d left him.

They followed the road until the Tower rose high above them. Link was forced to dismount, however, and make his way on foot. He had passed another moblin encampment, and he was loathe to remain unarmored, but he knew he faced a long climb and did not want to be slowed by heavy steel plates. The sun beat down on him mercilessly through the afternoon, and he was quite tired by the time he even came near the Tower. He found his way blocked by noxious fumes that rose from a gurgling sludge that pooled between rocks and covered the base of the Tower. He carefully picked his way around it—he feared touching it—but found his way blocked by a web of ooze.

As he approached, the ooze _woke up._ It bubbled and popped nastily, and then a sticky, malicious eye swiveled around to stare at Link. He wasted no time and lunged forward with blade drawn. The severed eye bounced down the cliff and crumbled into dust as it went.

Link had not been fast enough. Though the wall of sludge had melted away as soon as Link had removed its eye, it had seemingly triggered some sort of defense force. Two bokoblin skulls floated toward him, their pointy teeth gnashing menacingly. He was no stranger to Stalfos, but the sight of the skulls floating towards him in the daylight caught Link off guard. He ducked to avoid one and lifted his shield to block the other as it rammed at him. Undeterred, the boko skull latched on to his shield with its teeth.

Link swung his shield arm into the side of the cliff twice to crack the skull and send its fangs skittering down the side of the cliff. The other skull had turned by then and made its rush at him. With his sword gripped in both hands, Link readied his stance, aimed, and swung. The skull exploded into bits of bone and smoke upon impact.

Link didn’t stay to catch his breath and continued on up the hill to the Tower. He was horrified to find that, where the sentient sludge was thickest, it resembled pulsing flesh; rib-like structures grew from its masses, and not only did it sprout more eyes—it had mouths.

Once Link realized the connection between the eyes, mouths, and the floating skulls they sent toward him, he discarded his now-ruined sword and favored his bow. The change in tactics made it far easier to make progress, and soon he reached the base of the Tower.

It was engulfed in thick clumps of the noxious sludge. Ancient columns surrounded the Tower, knocked into the mess by the ravages of time and the elements. It seemed nearly impossible to reach the ladder, and even the cleanest columns were too far from the Tower to jump and glide onto. Link skirted the Tower and spotted a giant clump of ooze atop the most upright pillar. It, too, had sprouted an eye, and he assumed that the mouth was nearby, but it had not spotted him yet. He shot it with a fire arrow just to be sure.

Link climbed to the top of the newly freed pillar and tried to plan his route of ascent. The ladder was tangled in a sticky web of ooze and evil, and if he were to glide too low, he would not be able to climb past it safely.

The wind was strong at the top of the peak, and Link placed his bets on it being enough to maintain altitude in his glide. He was mostly right: he maintained his altitude, but his initial jump had been too low, and he landed on the ladder with one foot sunk deep in the muck.

It clung to him as he quickly scaled the rest of the Tower, and by the time he reached the top it had begun to burn him.

He sat, panting for breath, and quickly unlaced his boot. Some of the sludge had gotten in, and it had already done impressive damage. He used a shredded Korok leaf and water to wash away the poison, but it had already eaten away at patches of his skin and left the rest blistered, red, and raw.

Link let loose a slew of curses and began to rummage in his pack for the Hearty Elixir he had been wise enough to prepare with Beedle’s wares. He uncorked the small vial and took a sip. Beedle had told him that was usually enough to restore one’s vitality and then some, and while Link _felt_ better, his foot did not seem to be restored.

On a hunch, he poured a few drops of the elixir onto a fresh patch of Korok leaf and painstakingly wrapped it around his tender foot. The relief was instant, though itchy. He could feel his skin patching itself under the wrap, and soon he could wiggle his toes without flinching.

He made a note of his observations and stood to activate the Tabantha Tower. It was terribly cold at the top of the Tower, and Link knew that he couldn’t stay there for much longer. Even with his warm doublet, his exposed foot and the high winds made it an unpleasant experience.

He had wasted so much time scaling the cliffs below him, and he was loathe to waste more, but he wondered if the Great Fairy would be able to fix his poor boot. He hadn’t thought he’d run through boots that fast and didn’t have a spare.

As he received his map, he looked out at the region and scanned the area for the Great Fairy Fountain. He had to take his Sheikah Slate back and skirt the edge of the Tower to examine the landscape, but he found it quickly enough. Even without the shadow of the Tower falling on it, the monstrous bulb and obnoxiously orange mushrooms stood out between the rocks.

Link hoped that the Fountain was close enough to the road that Lanayru would hear him calling, but if not, he would hopefully walk back with fully repaired boots, and it wouldn’t matter.

So Link jumped.

This was one of his longer flights, and his arms felt like they were going to rip from their sockets by the time he reached the Fountain and dropped down in front of it. He gasped for breath.

“Sweet boy,” the Fairy crooned from within her bulb. “This place was once a beautiful spring—”

“I know.” Link waved his hand. “How many rupees do you need?”

“…rude.” The bulb rocked as the Fairy moved within it. “All I need is five hundred rupees.”

“Perfect. Got it.” Link was quite happy to be relieved of Toren’s life savings and the accompanying guilt. “Here you go.”

A large, dark hand reached from the bulb and snatched the rupees from him. This time, he was wise enough to take a few steps back to avoid the splash of water, perfume, and flower petals.

“Oh my…” The Fairy leaned so close that her giant pink hair nearly knocked him over. “I see now that my first impression of you was incorrect. You’re _definitely_ pleasant to look at. How would you like to live here with me, hmm?”

 _“What?”_ Link couldn’t help his knee jerk reaction to take a step back. “Uh—I kind of have a—”

“Hah!” The Fairy tossed her hair. “I’m kidding, of course. But you certainly are cute when you’re blushing.”

Link felt the tips of his ears turn as red as a rupee. He dropped his poisoned, burned boot in front of him, unable to find a reply.

“Ah, you know the drill,” the Fairy said. “I see how it is.”

“Cotera told me to find all of you,” he offered. “But yeah, I’d like my boot fixed.”

“With the power available to me… I can enhance your clothing a fair amount, sweet boy.”

“Enhance away.” He gestured. “I have other things, too.”

The Fairy grabbed his boot, a handful of Hyrule herbs, and some salt, and began to rub them all together in her hands. “What else?” she asked as she worked.

Link sat cross-legged on the mushroom platform and began to set out his armor sets. He wanted the Sheikah armor upgraded to its fullest sneaking ability, and he wanted to get the Soldier’s armor as enhanced as possible.

He had been collecting fireflies when he encountered them, and he had some blue nightshade left—almost enough to upgrade the whole set. “I’ll give you a discount,” she said. “But I need Chuchu jelly to upgrade the other armor.”

“Chuchu?” Link packed away the Soldier set. “What’s that?”

“They ooze out of the ground and drop out of trees. Some are big, some are small, but they pack a punch.” The Fairy handed his fully repaired boot back to him and directed him to hold his Sheikah armor up for size. “Oooh,” she cooed, and pressed a kiss to one finger. “You look like a _snack_!”

Her finger was the size of his face, and he flinched as it closed in, but she only gave him a light pat and released the magic over him. Link fixed his climbing bandanna and tried to hide his discomfort.

“There we go… You should be able to feel the care I put into that. It radiates off those clothes.”

“Uh, yeah. Thank you. Hey, someone actually sent me to find you, and he wants to come visit himself. What should I tell him to call you?”

The Fairy rested her chin on her palm and fluttered her eyelashes. “How smooth,” she said in an accusatory tone. “My name is Kaysa.”

Link nodded. “I’ll pass it on. Hope you get lots of rupees.”

Kaysa took his clear desire to depart with good humor. “We'll see about this other guy, but I hope _you_ come visit me again soon. Take care, sweet boy!”

 

Link glided down to the road and put his fingers to his mouth. The shrill whistle pierced the late afternoon calm and startled birds nearby. He just hoped it was loud enough to call Lanayru to him.

The sound of his hooves echoed in the canyon ahead of him. The sight of the royal stallion galloping dutifully toward him made Link’s heart swell in his chest with—with—

Around the canyon’s bend, where Lanayru had just appeared, came a beam of white fire. It missed the horse by but a few feet and left a smoldering crater in its wake.  
Link saw the Guardian a moment later. Its red tracking beam searched the cliff face and the canyon floor, and it seemed to have lost track of the horse that had drawn its wrath. Nevertheless, Link shrank back into the grass in fear of the death machine.

He didn’t know that they could _fly._

Lanayru was surprisingly calm when he sought Link out. He would have expected the horse to roll its eyes and throw him at the earliest possible chance, given its encounter, but instead the Guardian seemed to have scared the horse into a much more loyal mood. Lanayru gladly kept up his thunderous pace out of the canyon, across Kolami Bridge, and through the evening.

They only slowed when the stable came into view. When Link leaned down to soothe his dutiful traveling companion, he found the horse’s flesh damp and flecked with foam. He immediately pulled up and dismounted, determined to walk the rest of the way and allow Lanayru to cool down. It distressed him to know how close horse had come to harm, and he vowed to let him have free access to his stash of carrots the moment they reached the stable.

The Divine Beast circled ominously above his head, its red mechanisms glowing like jewels in the dusk. The other travelers did not pay it any mind as they milled about the Rito Stable, but Link could not tear his eyes off of it even as he handed Lanayru off to the stable boy and purchased a soft bed for himself.


	19. Stable Song.

Link sat around the fire for a while and traded recipes with other travelers and exchanged some of his found jewels for a hefty bag of rupees. Then he had acknowledged how cold the night had grown and retired inside.

He was drawn to a notice put up on a back wall of the tent, beside the price listings for the stable’s services. At the top, in fancy, curling script, was the title: RUMOR MILL: VOLUME 2.

Link nearly tore the paper off the wall when he saw the subtitle.

 

_**The Sword that Seals the Darkness** _

_The only one who can wield this sword carries the blood of the hero in their veins. That's what they say about this special blade! Rumor has it the blade has been hidden away in a forest somewhere..._

_I have to admit that this rumor really has me interested, but sometimes you have to face reality._

_My reality is... There isn't any hero in my bloodline, so this sword would just be a big paperweight to me..._

_Traysi's Recommendation: [1 star]_

 

It was as though someone had dropped a snowball in his stomach. Suddenly, Link could not stop shivering, and his stomach felt weighted down to his knees. He pulled out his Sheikah Slate and took a picture of the note, saved it, and returned to his soft bed.

Link hugged himself tightly and pressed himself back into the headboard, knees to his chin. Perhaps the Sword wasn’t lost. But why hadn’t it called to him? It was possible that he had never heard its voice, or maybe it was a myth. None of these explanations satisfied him.

Perhaps…it was time to return to Impa.

 

The next morning, Link woke to the reedy sound of an accordion.

“Ah, we meet again!” Kass cried the moment Link stepped into view. “I’m glad to see you in one piece.”

“It’s been a little rough,” Link admitted.

“I’m sure.” Kass’s voice was not somber for long. “We’re actually very close to my hometown of Rito Village, and though I must admit my bias, I have never felt more safe and rested than here. I have been feeling incredibly homesick, of late.”

“I’m headed there today,” Link said. “I’d be honored to have you join me, Kass.”

The Rito sighed, and it seemed that his accordion sighed as well. “But you see, I cannot go home until I fulfill my promise to my teacher.”

Link tilted his head inquisitively, but Kass seemed to regret having spoken. “Now is not the time,” he said quietly. “Simply put, if I am able to learn all of the ancient songs of Hyrule… I will return to my hometown, and then I will tell you of my promise.”

The young Hylian in front of him searched his face once again for recognition and wondered if he should tell Kass his own story. Kass had not asked, and yet of all people he had met on the road, he felt the most trusting of the bard.

“Listen to me blathering on,” Kass said after a pregnant pause. “I happen to know a song about the ancient Hero and his fight against Calamity. It was passed down to me by my teacher. Do you want to hear it?”

Link’s mouth was dry as he pulled up a stool and settled down to listen.

 

 _“The kingdom of Hyrule is a vast and storied land,_  
_Oft grasped in the palm of a villainous hand._

 _A dark force of destruction, many times undone,_  
_Rises once again - Ganon, the calamitous one._

 _But hope survives in Hyrule, for all is not lost,_  
_Two brave souls protect it, no matter the cost._

 _A goddess-blood princess and a fearless knight,_  
_They appear in each age to fight the good fight._

 _Their battle with Ganon I've committed to song,_  
_To keep it through time, no matter how long.”_

 

Though Link truly loved Kass’s voice, he didn’t hear the rest of the song, for his heart beat so loudly in his ears. He didn’t even notice that the bard had finished. But Kass was patient, and when Link realized that the accordion had fallen silent, he found Kass regarding him with a look that warmed Link’s heart.

He didn’t need to tell Kass.

“That was beautiful, thank you,” he said softly.

“I am still discovering other songs about the Hero,” Kass admitted. “There are few from before the first Calamity, ten thousand years ago, but the battle has been fought countless times since. I believe there may be a song for each one.”

“I look forward to hearing them,” Link told Kass.

The bard squeezed his accordion tight and resumed playing the song Link had woken to.

Link left Lanayru boarded at the stable and received assurance that Prayer would be arriving with the next caravan, likely by the following morning. The news cheered him and gave him enough of an incentive to make his way to the Village.

The moment Link’s foot touched the bridge, the sky was torn open by an otherworldly scream. Pain lanced through Link’s ears, and he saw Rito guardsmen running for cover at the sound.

Link looked up at Vah Medoh, at its multitude of propellers, its fingered wings, and its probing eyes. He knew that it knew he was nearby. It was only a matter of time before it came looking for him.

The winds here were a force, whistling through the canyons and craters and whipped up by Vah Medoh’s mechanisms. They pushed at Link as he hurried his way across the wooden footbridges and found the stairs to the Village.

At the top of the stairs, Hylia greeted him from beneath a wreath of flowers. His heart swelled at the sight of her well-loved, prominent position in the town.

He did not hear her words as much as feel them: _Dear One!_

The calm that always soothed him so in her presence was different. It braced him, made him sit up a little straighter before her. She was proud of him for making it here, and he felt it. More so, he knew that she forgave him for his moments of doubt.

 _You have done well to journey this far,_ she told him. _I will amplify your being, but you must tell me what it is that you desire._

“Stamina, I think, would be wise.”

_Indeed. Now, go. Bring peace to Hyrule._

Link pressed his hand to the symbol of the Triforce laid out at her feet and journeyed on.

He passed the Rito inn and the general store, which he made note to patronize later. It seemed that they had more grains than he had known existed, and he was desperately low on binders.

“Warm garb here!”

Link heard the crier from around the bend, and when he mounted the next staircase he found that he’d reached the tailor. He would need to check that out, too, at a later time, but for now—his Slate was buzzing.

He continued to rise until he found the bridge and the Shrine. He made his way to Akh Va’quot’s trial and activated the Travel Gate.

Inside the Shrine, he found a sapphire, a Feathered Spear, and finally, an ancient core. He knew, because as Purah said, it glowed. The sense of pride he had felt in Hylia’s presence only intensified as he made short work of the wind puzzle, and he received his Spirit Orb gratefully.

But after he left the Shrine, Link did not continue through the Village. Instead, he looked down at his fingers as they disintegrated into the aura of Hyrule.

 

He wasn’t going to count on the notion that Impa would have all the answers—or tell him, even if she did. Nevertheless, Link had questions, and she had told him to return after he’d visited the places Zelda had once captured on the Slate.

“I see you come from somewhere cold,” Impa noted when he entered. “Lanayru? Tabantha? The Gerudo Highlands?”

“Tabantha,” Link replied. He remained standing before her. “I plan to take on Vah Medoh first.”

“You have traveled quite far, then.” Impa raised her eyebrows.

“And I’ve seen some of the princess’s memories.” Link watched Impa’s face carefully as he continued. “I’ve realized… I’m not the person I was, and even if I get all of these fragmented memories back… He isn’t sleeping somewhere in my head, Impa. He died. And for better or for worse, I’m never going to be him.”

The shock on Impa’s face hurt so badly that he wanted to take back every thing he had just said. But he had meant it.

Words had begun to tumble out of his mouth, and he could hardly keep up. “I know what you and Rhoam and everyone thinks I must do to fulfill my destiny. But everything I have learned, everything Zelda has told me since I woke… and what Hylia tells me at every meeting…” Link took a deep, shuddering breath. “I already have it in me, to bring peace to Hyrule.”

The moment stretched thin, and Link could feel the tension in the room as taught as a bowstring. Yet the feeling rising inside him was not a bad one.

Impa bowed her head in acceptance. When she looked up at him again, it was clear that she was saddened by his words; still, she smiled. “I still sense doubt in your heart, Link, but I can tell that the strength of your resolve has grown exponentially in the days since we last spoke. I know that what is within you is the soul of a Hero. What is another life forgotten, of a thousand?”

Link let loose the breath he did not realize he’d held. The knot in his chest had also loosened as Impa spoke. One question burned in his chest, but he did not speak it.

“I feel that it is right to give this to you, now.” She gestured at one of the drawers that lined the walls of her abode, and he crossed the room to fetch what was inside. As he drew closer, he finally took note of the painting that stretched across most of the open wall. He wondered why Impa had a painting of Blatchery Plain, full of the husks of destroyed Guardians.

“This is something of yours that I have been keeping safe, by request of the Princess,” Impa said as he brought the parcel back to her throne.

Link’s fingertips were rough and calloused, but he could feel the soft enchantment in the sky blue fabric. Zelda had embroidered it with the Master Sword like a pendant around the neckline—he knew how her magic felt, and it was evident in his hands.

“This clothing was specially made for you when you became a Champion. I have had it mended, but the Royal Blessing remains on it. Take it, Link. Champion.”

 

His vambraces, mail, and gambeson were all in the bundle. He inspected them as he returned to Cotera’s fountain above Kakariko. He wanted to let her know that he’d met Kaysa, and he wanted to restock on blue nightshade flowers.

Just as he arrived, he saw something moving around the flowers. Its movements were slower than any bee or butterfly he had seen, but its mint-green wings were similar to a butterfly’s. If it had a body, Link could not see it through the gauzy, glowing aura it exuded.

Link dropped to his knees and approached it slowly, careful not to make a sound. When he got close enough, he snatched it out of the air and held it cupped in his hands. The little creature pulsed its wings but did not fight against his grip. It made a sound, like the distant jingle of bells or glass. When he opened his hand, it did not leave.

He reached into his pack and found an empty milk jar to put the creature in, and he tied a scrap of cloth over it so that it wouldn’t fall out or get crushed, but still have some air.

The creature floated carelessly around the jar.

Link found three more of them around Cotera’s Fountain, and he added them all to his jar. Just as he placed them in his pouch, Cotera’s pool began to stir, and the Great Fairy breached the surface soon afterward.

“Hello, Cotera,” he said over his shoulder as he bent to pluck a blue nightshade. “I came to tell you that I restored Kaysa up in Tabantha.”

“Oh, you are so sweet,” the Fairy cooed. She crossed her arms and leaned on the edge of her pool. “How did you handle her?”

He looked up at her and, from her raised eyebrows, gathered that Kaysa was known for her…behavior. “I was very to the point,” he said, “and told her that she had an admirer, I was just the messenger.”

Cotera chuckled. “Wise,” she noted. “By the way, I smell a powerful enchantment on you—but it isn’t one of ours. May I see?” Link had the Champion’s Tunic bundled under his arm, but he took it out now to show Cotera. “I see,” she said. With one long finger, she touched the blue fabric briefly and pulled it back as though stung. “As I suspected. This is Hylia’s work. It has weakened over the ages, but I can restore it—a little bit. You will need a lot of materials to upgrade it fully.”

Link clutched the parcel to him. “Like what?”

Cotera pointed to the white flowers that hid from sight beneath blue nightshade and bushes. “Three Silent Princesses, to start. Three Silent Princesses per upgrade, but you will need horns from each of the Golden Goddesses’ guardians to finish the job.”

“Who are the guardians?” Link asked. “And, I have three Silent Princesses.”

“Dragons, dear boy,” Cotera purred. “Farosh, Naydra, Dinraal. If you find the Springs of Courage, Power, and Wisdom, the guardian spirits are not far off. Now, change into your armor and hold those Silent Princesses over your heart.”

He did as she asked—he felt much less… _snack-like_ in her presence, so he didn’t mind changing in front of her. Then he took out the Silent Princesses he had just picked and held them, like he’d been instructed, close to his heart.


	20. The Proud Aerialist.

Link returned to Rito Village equipped in his Champion blues, and he made his way through the Village in search of the elder. He assumed he would find them in a place of honor—the highest house—and took the stairs two at a time until he reached it.

The Rito in the last house was larger than any he had met so far or seen around the Village, and his long, braided beard bobbed as he nodded off in his great chair.

“Ah, a visitor,” he murmured as he sensed Link in the doorway. “Welcome to…” The owl opened his eyes and saw Link for the first time. “Oh. OH!”

He leaned forward in his chair, eyes bulging with excitement. Then he seemed to remember himself. “Forgive me,” the Rito said quickly. “Where are my manners? I am Kaneli, elder of Rito Village.”

Link opened his mouth to speak, but the elder’s excitement was not to be contained for long. “Now, that object on your hip… Could it be…?”

“It is,” Link said and stepped inside.

“That means you must be a Champion like Master Revali—one of the few able to board Divine Beast Vah Medoh!”

Link’s heart jumped in his throat. Before he could reply, Kaneli had covered his face and begun shaking his head. “No… what am I thinking? The Champions have all been dead for one hundred year. This boy must be a mere descendant, an inheritor of the Slate… Ah, forgive me.”

Link shook his head. He did not need to correct the elder in order to complete his task. “That is why I have come,” he said. “I can free the Divine Beast from Ganon’s control.”

“Champion descendant… If you would, then you will have my eternal gratitude.” The old Rito folded his large wings over his belly and sighed. “I tried explaining to the more headstrong Rito warriors, but they wouldn’t listen to reason. Only a chosen one may control a Divine Beast. Teba and Harth tried to confront Medoh, but it did not go well, and Harth was injured.” He sighed once more. “Teba escaped unscathed, but I fear he now plans to face Medoh alone. Please, find Teba. If you work together, he can get you up to the Beast.”

Link nodded. “Where is he?”

“Teba’s _wife_ lives next door,” Kaneli said. A note of frustration entered his voice. “ _Teba_ lives at the Flight Range.”

 _Wherever that is,_ Link thought.

He excused himself from the elder’s quarters and nearly ran into the Rito woman who stood outside.

“Forgive my intrusion,” she said, wringing her feathers in front of her. “It sounds like you intend to help my husband, Teba, in the fight against Medoh.”

“Kaneli said he went to the Flight Range.” Link pulled out his Slate and opened the map. “I need to head there right away.”

The woman pointed at a spot on the map, and Link placed a Waypoint there. She seemed fascinated by the process but did not pry. “It’s a place where Rito warriors prepare for aerial combat… It is full of thermal vents, and when they meet the cold Hebra air, it creates an updraft. However, it is still quite cold.”

Link accepted her warning and thanked her. Before he could head off, she drew his attention to the landing nearby. “If you take off from Revali’s Landing, it’s a straight shot down.”

He went to the tailor first, casting only the most cursory glance at Revali’s Landing as he passed. Nekk at the Brazen Beak did his best to convince Link that the Snowquill armor set was indeed worth over two thousand rupees, but the Rito did admit that only two pieces were necessary to beat the deep cold of Hebra.

Though it was much more expensive, Link bought the headdress and trousers considered coming back for the tunic after he’d earned some more rupees. The ruby worked into the headdress shone brilliantly as he braided his hair in the manner described by the Rito.

The trousers were softer than any soft bed Link had slept in, and they insulated him against even the strongest wind that swept through Rito Village. He could not imagine anything more comfortable in all of Hyrule than a Rito down bed, and he suddenly looked forward to using the inn. If he survived the day.

He returned to Revali’s Landing, bu he did not make it far down the stairs before a wave of dizziness overcame him. _That symbol—_

 

_He had stood in the center of that very landing. Vah Medoh was passing overhead, its mechanisms lit Hyrule blue as it ambled through the sky. Link looked up expectantly, waiting for the Champion who’d requested this meeting._

_A gale rose up around him, in an instant becoming powerful enough to loosen his footing. He planted himself firmly and did not let it sway him._

_Through narrowed eyes, he watched the Rito archer burst into view. The proud aerialist twirled through the vortex he’d created with his powerful wings and blessed magic, and then turned tail and landed heavily on the fence before Link._

_Link had to fight to keep a straight face. He didn’t tolerate show-offs in his unit._

_“Impressive, I know.” Revali straightened up and crossed his wings over his chest. “Very few can achieve a mastery of the sky, yet I have made an art of creating an updraft that allows me to soar.”_

_Link_ knew _that. That’s why the Princess had chosen Revali as a Champion in the first place, why they had been meeting for_ months _. This was entirely fucking unnecessary._

_“It’s considered to be quite the masterpiece of aerial techniques, even among the Rito.”_

_Was this the entire point of his meeting? None of this required the haughty poses or the condescending tone. Link knew the kind of insecurity spawned such attitudes, and he did not appreciate it in a fellow Champion._

_“With proper utilization of my superior skills, I see no reason why we couldn’t easily dispense with Ganon. Now then—” Revali hopped down from his perch and approached Link, arms behind his back, as if he were his inspecting officer. “My ability to explore the firmament is certainly of note. But let’s not—pardon me for being so blunt—let’s not forget that I am the most skilled archer of all the Rito.”_

_Revali had leaned in close to Link, and the two Champions met each others’ eyes. Link was satisfied that his poker face only seemed to rile Revali further._

_The Rito backed off._

_“Yet despite these truths, it seems that I have been tapped merely to assist you. All because you happen to have that little darkness-sealing sword on your back.”_

_Fi vibrated in her sheath, but she didn’t need to speak to tell Link loud and clear what her thoughts were._

_“I mean, it’s just…asinine,” Revali said. His eyes narrowed and he bent in close to Link’s face once again. “Unless… you think you can prove me wrong?” Revali’s Champion Scarf fluttered in Link’s face as the Rito closed in. They stood chest-to-chest. “Maybe we should settle this one-on-one.”_

_Revali turned back as a spark of tension sizzled between them, and he rubbed his beak thoughtfully._

_“But where…? Oh, I know! How about up there?!” He threw his wing out to point at Vah Medoh and her shining stone wings. “Oh!” Revali laughed politely, which made it all the more rude. “You must pardon me, I forgot you have no way of making it up to that Divine Beast on your own!” Revali scoffed, spread his wings, and raised his gale once again. Link was forced to cover his face to protect his eyes from the dust and debris left in Revali’s wake. “Good luck sealing the darkness!” the Rito Champion cried as he shot into the sky._

_Link straightened up and contemplated the Divine Beast. He did not understand why Revali required_ deference _, not respect. That didn’t bother Link, however, more than the fact that the Rito had just wasted his morning. If Revali had stayed a moment longer, maybe Link would have said something about the Curse that was on his head, and would Revali like to risk_ his _life to draw Fi from her sheath?_

 

Link covered his eyes and fought hard to stay upright. Blood pounded in his ears, and the phantom of his frustration, exasperation, even anger still coursed through him—along with a rush of shock and awe that was purely from the here-and-now. Fi was the voice of the sword, he remembered. She had called to him when he was strong enough, when he had mastered his ability.

Link leaned against the railing of Revali’s landing, where the Champion had once perched one hundred years ago. _That’s why she hasn’t called to me,_ Link guessed. _I’m not strong enough yet._

He leaned there for a while, calming his frayed nerves and thinking about this, the clearest memory he’d had. It had felt like almost his own, this time. The memories of Zelda were so confused and silent and helpless, but this was vivid, this he felt authentically.

“What an ass,” Link muttered, and took off for the Flight Range.

 

The golden tundra grass transitioned smoothly into thick snow as Link landed on the cliff’s edge, and the temperature dropped precipitously. He was glad for the Snowquill armor, but he wished it offered a little more protection from, say, boko spears.

He had spotted two bokos on horseback harassing some wildlife, but he had also seen a Shrine nearby. He was sorely tempted to run to the Shrine and avoid a confrontation—but the desperate bellows of the giant moose pulled at his heartstrings.

Link made his way to the Shrine anyway and pulled out his Slate, but he didn’t immediately activate its travel gate. Instead, he summoned a round bomb. He tucked the Slate under his arm, picked up the bomb, and punted it in the direction of the bokos.

He detonated it far enough away from them that the horses would be spooked but unharmed; their sudden screams and bucking caught the bokos by surprise, and they were flung far from their now freed horses.

Link readied another bomb and drop-kicked it at the bokos once more. The stupid creatures ran right toward it, distracted from their tantrums—and their prey—by the beautiful blue light. With both of them standing almost on top of it, Link detonated the bomb.

The bokos were clearly gravely injured, but Link drew an arrow from his quiver to finish the job. He did not want to find them on horseback when he left the Shrine, and likewise he did not want to find them pelting a moose with snowballs and wooden spears.

Two head shots later, Link entered the Sha Warvo Shrine.

 

He was fascinated by the turbines that created updrafts similar to Revali’s gales, and he snapped out his paraglider to ride one up to the next floating platform. It contained only a turbine, which he again rode upward.

As Link floated up, and up, and up, he heard the familiar whirring of a Guardian waking up.

He angled the paraglider to twirl around and find where the Guardian was hiding. It guarded a treasure chest on a platform below him, and he glided quickly to avoid its tracking beam. It followed easily as he soared above the platform.

Link let go of his glider and drew his bow.

The Guardian’s beam ignited in slow motion, a stream of white light that sizzled as it burned through the air toward him. His arrow flew faster, however, and it hit its mark.

As time rushed forward once more, Link caught hold of his glider, snapped it shut, and fell a few feet to avoid the remnant of the Guardian’s beam. He felt its heat against his cheek as it shot by.

Link landed in front of the treasure chest and found a fifty rupee piece inside. Its violet glow filled his heart with great satisfaction, as did the set of ancient screws and shafts he found in the scattered Guardian debris.

His adrenaline ran high as he soared to the next platform, and the rush of blood in his ears intensified as he saw the long drop below him. A single ladder hung down yards and yards away. He hoped his grip would hold up long enough for him to reach the ladder, hold on, and climb it in quick succession.

His grip held. He used his legs moreso than his arms to scale the ladder, and he was disappointed to find yet more turbines awaiting him. This time, the gust carried him higher than any other, and he hung suspended in the air trying to figure out how to complete the trial. In the distance—and above him still—floated a tiny platform with another chest. Closer, there was a monolithic and seemingly solid tower of obsidian stone. He presumed that somewhere, likely on the opposite side of the floating block, was an alcove with another turbine—but he was nervous. He would have to hold on to the glider for longer than ever in order to circle it.

He decided to risk it. He had yet to fall in these strange floating areas, and he hoped—prayed—that the Sheikah monks wouldn’t let the Hero die in a test like these. But then again…

Link floated down to the block, circling around it in vain as he passed three of its solid sides. Just when he thought he would lose the last of his altitude, he came across the alcove he’d been searching for.

He almost slammed into the wall as he let go of the glider and fell forward into the alcove. He sat on top of the turbine, the wind blowing his hair straight upward from his head, for a few moments to regain his stamina before continuing on.

This turbine gave him enough altitude to reach the far treasure chest with its Knight’s bow. He was grateful to be rid of his last crude boko bow and stowed his new one in its place. The boko bow dropped off the edge of the platform and tumbled, silently, into the darkness.

Link glided back down to platform with the hidden alcove and, this time, rode the updraft all the way to Sha Warvo. He hit the ground running.

_If only Revali could see me now._


	21. The Rito Warrior.

Link entered the Flight Range and skirted the edge of the chasm filled with howling updrafts. The walls of the chasm were covered with targets that had been pierced by a thousand arrows each. A lone warrior surveyed them from the lofted hut at the far end of the range.

Teba did not acknowledge Link as the Hylian approached, he was so absorbed in mending his bow. Link climbed into the loft and made his way to the landing where the Rito worked.

Link licked his chapped lips, unsure how to introduce himself, but he didn’t have to.

Teba had looked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed with suspicion as he looked Link up and down. Then he returned to his work on his bow. “I don’t know you. I’m pretty busy here. You should probably go.”

Link put his hands on his hips. “I can help you.”

“Help me?” Teba scoffed. “With what exactly?”

“Kaneli sent me—”

 _“Let me get this straight.”_ Teba laid his bow across his lap. “Some random Hylian wants to help me bing down Divine Beast Vah Medoh. I’m not buying it. What’s your name, stranger?”

“I’m Link.”

“So, Link, the elder sent you here to talk some sense into me. Just like the elder to trust any fool wandering into town.” Teba shook his head. “Look, you seem like an alright guy, but let’s make one thing clear: I’m not backing down. I swore, as a Rito Warrior, not to rest until my people are safe.”

“Then let’s get started.” Link hooked his fingers through his belt. “I didn’t come here to convince you to end your quest.”

Teba stared at him. The Rito simply couldn’t process the words that had come out of Link’s mouth, it seemed. “You’re serious,” he said flatly. “HA! Not only are you wingless…you’re brainless too. Well, far be it from me to talk you off the ledge.”

Link rolled his eyes. Teba’s pride was nowhere near as caustic as Revali’s had been, but in one hundred years Link had not grown any more tolerant. “Maybe I’m crazy too, but do you have the luxury to turn down help right now, Teba, with Harth in the condition he is?”

Teba reacted strongly to Link’s tone, straightening up and shutting his beak. Link wasn’t sure where he had found the authority to speak like this, but it came naturally.

“You’re right,” Teba said finally. “But we need a Champion to enter the Divine Beast, All of the Champions died one hundred years ago.”

“All but one.” Link unhooked the Sheikah Slate from his belt. “This device can be used to board the Divine Beast. But I need to get close.”

Teba, to his credit, did not comment on the wild claim Link had made about his identity. “If we approach Medoh recklessly, its cannons will blast us out of the sky. So you’re going to need to prove your worth as an archer before I take you with me.”

“Fine.” Link reached for his paraglider. “What is your test?”

It was clear that Teba had not expected Link to accept the proposal so readily. The suspicion in his eyes was dimming, to be replaced with a hint of wonder. “Destroy five targets in three minutes,” he said.

Link nodded, and without waiting for Teba to prepare a timer, he dove off the edge of the landing.

This was going to be the must rigorous test of his endurance and ability yet—far more demanding than any Shrine he had encountered. But Link, as he fell, was filled only with steely resolve.

 _Focus,_ he told himself, and he unfurled his glider.

The updrafts caught him quickly, and he shot above the landing he had just leaped from. At this height, not one but two targets were within range.

_Focus._

It took all of his concentration and energy to equip his bow, string an arrow, and loose it not once but twice in a row, but the moment lasted as long as he needed it to and his aim was true. Returning his grip to the glider was easy in comparison, and the sight of his arrows hitting their marks—dead-center—reinvigorated him.

He heard the Rito cursing in shock below him, but he paid no mind. Two down, three to go, after all, and Link wasn’t one to gloat.

Link caught one target in his next slow fall, and though his aim wasn’t as dead-on, the arrow sank deep into the cloth of the target with a satisfying thunk. He caught the air again and soared high above the Flight Range—and then he closed his glider and fell.

Fast.

It was hard to focus on the targets as they moved so quickly toward him, but he used every ounce of his being to give him the time he needed to complete his task. The air thickened, time stopped flowing around him, and he hit his final two targets in quick succession.

He almost didn’t have enough energy to grab his glider again, and he was grateful to return to rock steady earth. Teba took a step toward him as he landed.

“You did that in under a minute,” Teba gasped. Then he seemed to remember his proud Rito ways and sobered him. “You’re…a skilled archer. It was as if time stopped every time you let an arrow fly.”

“It does,” Link said. “I’m not crazy, Teba.”

“I can tell you’re the real deal,” the Rito replied. “You must have seen a battle or two.”

“Hundreds.”

“I believe it.” Those three words sent electricity through Link’s veins, but nothing compared to what followed. “ _Link_ … I thought I’d heard the name somewhere before. Are you really the Hylian Champion?”

Link put his hand over his chest, though he was no longer wearing the blue tunic with its embroidered Master Sword. He did not reply.

“What do we need to defeat Medoh?”

Teba nodded. “I can get you into position so you can give its cannons all you’ve got, but you’re going to need bomb arrows—and lots of them. Our fletcher can only make so many, so if you know somewhere to get a lot of them, fast, I’d recommend that.” The Rito warrior turned and led Link into the hut. “Inside this chest is a bow I’ve modified. We Rito favor the Falcon Bow for its superior rate of fire, and it’s light enough that it doesn’t weigh us down. Not that anything weighs you down, it seems. But you should have it.”

Link collected the beautiful bow and admired its craftsmanship. “I can find bomb arrows,” he said. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

With the Falcon Bow in one hand, and the Slate in the other, Link warped back to Akh Va’quot’s Shrine.

He certainly wasn’t one to gloat, but when, in the instant before he was dispersed into aura, Link caught the look on Teba’s face—well, he wished Revali could have seen it.

 

Link had to sell most of his remaining jewels, but he was able to buy all of the bomb arrows in Rito Village—and Hateno as well. He took the time to cook more hearty- and stamina-increasing meals and elixirs, and then, sweating a little, he rushed back to Teba.

“I found you some more,” Teba said, holding out a bundle of twenty bomb arrows, “You look warm enough. Are you ready?”

Link nodded.

Teba turned to go, but something made him look back. “Tell me something …Why are you doing this? Why risk your life to bring down Medoh?”

Link looked away, up through the canyon at the distant silhouette of Vah Medoh. “I’ve seen how Hyrule has suffered in the hundred years since we fell,” Link said finally. “I can’t just watch and let it continue.”

“Watch and let innocent people be terrorized? Yeah. That’s exactly how I feel.”

Their eyes met. Teba reached out his hand for Link’s, and they shook.

“…Right. Get on.”

The Rito warrior crouched down, wings outstretched—every muscle coiled and ready to spring. Without pause, Link hooked his fingers in the straps of the warrior’s spalders and hoisted himself onto Teba’s back.

They shot off, gaining altitude on the updrafts until they were a mile above the Divine Beast.

“Alright, it’s show-time.” Teba’s voice whipped over his shoulder and away on the wind as he hovered in the air. “Man, even I feel like I’m going to freeze up here!”

Link could tell that the Rito was feeling the exhilaration of his pre-battle adrenaline rush, just as he was. Link raised himself up on Teba’s back to examine the Divine Beast from his new vantage point.

As if sensing Link’s gaze, Vah Medoh let out a raucous caw, and Link heard its mechanisms whirring as a force field of red aura appeared around it,.

“It has its barrier up again,” Teba observed. “What a pain…”

The force field was generated from four points—one on either side of the Divine Beast’s wings, one at the tail, and one at its beak. Link squinted to see through the barrier.

“What’s wrong, Link?” Teba called. “Too scared to talk?”

Link threw him a smile but didn’t reply. Link might have fallen silent because he was nervous, but Teba talked for the same reason.

“Let’s go over the plan.”

“You see those cannons? I'll draw their fire. While I'm doing that, use your bomb arrows to destroy the cannons. If you need to withdraw for a bit, just spread your cloth and float straight up in the updraft for a while. I'll take that as a sign that we need to regroup. Whatever you do, don't get close enough to touch the barrier. We can move whenever you're ready!”

Link let go of Teba, let the air take him and the Rito fall away beneath, and he spread his glider wide. “Let’s go!”

He followed Teba closely, and his heart jumped as he saw the red laser designator lock on to the Rito warrior. Teba was faster than Link in the air, and his swerving and diving pulled the cannon in the opposite direction of Link.

“It’s locked on!” Teba shouted, though his voice was mostly obscured by the screaming wind. “Now, Link!”

Link let go of his glider and notched a bomb arrow. Its heavy head required him to aim high, and he briefly wished he had practiced with these arrows at least once before charging right into—

_Focus, Hero._

Link’s attention snapped back to the cannon, to the moment, and he loosed his arrow. It struck the base of the cannon but left it mostly intact, and now it was aware of Link.

He grabbed his glider and shot upward, gasping for breath. He was acutely aware of the red laser locked dead-center to his chest.

And then Teba shot in front of him, wings spread wide to stop himself right in the cannon’s sights. Link rose up higher, and the laser remained focused on Teba.

He didn’t need to stop time to hit the cannon this time—he was right above it, and his movements were lightning quick.

“That’s the way!” Teba crowed. “Let’s go!”

There was a rhythm to this, Link found. It didn’t matter as much as he’d thought, if the cannon caught sight of him. He could hear the charge of its beam, and if he dropped a few feet the moment it fired, he would be a safe distance from danger—and perfectly set up for his assault.

The barrier rippled as the second turret fell to Link’s arrows, and a sudden gust of wind sent him flying high above Medoh’s midsection.

The two remaining turrets immediately locked on to Link. He tried to swerve to the side, but the wind was too strong. The cannons kept their aim steady even as he tried to rise higher, sink lower—

Teba crashed into him like a cannonball in his own right, and the two went spinning over the side of the Divine Beast. Link caught himself desperately and the force of the paraglider’s upward pull nearly ripped his arms from their sockets.

“Are you alright?” Teba demanded, swooping by. His feathers were ruffled from the impact.

“Yes,” Link gasped out. “Let’s go.”

Teba gave him a breathless smile, and they charged back into battle.

 

“YES!”

Teba’s victory shriek was nearly as loud as Medoh’s monstrous cry. Link felt more than heard the Rito’s celebratory storm of curses, and he laughed along with him.

“That thing is history!” Teba panted as he glided over. His flight wobbled, threatened to send him spinning. “But I’ve got bad news, Link. It looks like I got hit pretty good back there.”

“Get back while you still can,” Link said quickly. “I’ll head down to Medoh.”

Teba nodded gratefully. “Good luck! It’s all you!”

The Rito warrior gave him a thumbs up and dove off.

Link felt the change in the air as he drew closer to the Divine Beast. There was a Sheikah pedestal awaiting him, and it had begun to glow the moment he passed through where the barrier had once been. It turned out to be the activation pedestal for the Travel Gate.

 _Well now_.

Link whirled around from the pedestal as Revali’s voice echoed around him.

 _I’ve seen that face before_.

“Revali?”

_I had a feeling you would show up eventually. But making me wait a hundred years is a bit…indulgent._

Was Link insane, or was there a softness to Revali’s usually cutting voice? He had no time to dwell on it, for the Rito Champion had continued unperturbed.

_You’re here to wrest control of Medoh away from Ganon, correct? If so, then the first thing you’ll want to do is find yourself a map. Look straight ahead through this corridor, and you’ll find a Guidance Stone with the information for the layout of this Divine Beast._

Link opened his mouth to thank the Champion, but his jaw snapped shut when Revali added, in the most coy of voices, _Can you make it there?_

Link groaned and turned around. He had spotted an ooze-eye on the tip of Medoh’s tail, and he suddenly needed something to take out his frustration on.

After he’d sent the eye flying away into the distance, skewered with a normal arrow, the goo it left behind quickly melted away and blew off of the Divine Beast. A large hunk of sapphire had been hidden away under the mess, and Link lunged for it before the wind could steal it from him.

He felt much better for having exterminated the first patch of Ganon’s blight from Medoh, and he turned to enter the Divine Beast’s main chamber.


	22. Inside the Divine Beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * maybe some mild gore?

He passed through the wide entryway slowly, scanning the walls, the ceiling, for more of the hostile goop. He could see the rib-like structures of flesh-like matter in the distance and he wanted to cut them off at the source before he could be spotted.

He crept into the antechamber and saw an eye stir open on the wall to his right. Before it could even open its goopy lids, he’d shot it down with an arrow. The wall of thick spikes and pools of ooze crumbled and disintegrated, leaving his way clear.

Link looked down into the main chamber of the Divine Beast and tried to form a strategy. Pools of ooze were everywhere, but he saw only one mouth below him; the location of its eye was hidden from him at this angle, but at least he knew to be cautious. Strange sliding mechanisms hung between him and the Guidance Stone at the far end of the chamber, in Vah Medoh’s head; there, he could see a dark lump that, if he were to guess, was a dormant Guardian.

It was out of his range, but fortunately a turbine below him created enough of an updraft to lift him to the ceiling of the chamber. He glided down slowly toward the Guardian and landed on a hanging platform in the center of the room. The Guardian had not yet noticed him, so he jumped on to the next platform closer. Still it did not notice—maybe it was completely deactivated.

Link stepped off the last platform and immediately regretted that he hadn’t shot the thing while it slept; the Guardian was not, as he had thought, a tiny Guardian only equipped with a laser. Instead, it unfolded and lengthened to become a spear-bearing robot a foot taller than he was.

 _I guess this is a moderate test of strength,_ Link thought to himself wryly as he raised his shield. What could it do? Fire lasers and stab him—easy enough to predict.

Link adjusted his grip on the hilt of his broadsword as he slashed at the robot’s exposed mechanisms; mid-swing, he flipped his wrist and lunged forward to jam the blade deep in the exposed column of tubes and wires. Sparks flew in his eyes, but he had seen the Guardian’s laser powering up.

The charges were short but swift, and each impact on his shield forced him back a step—in perfect range of the Guardian’s spear. He had anticipated as much, and when the stab came, Link dodged it perfectly.

He found that the more he slipped in and out of time, the easier it became. In the span of a mere heartbeat, he had severed the Guardian’s spear from its central column and made significant process removing its legs.

Though he hadn’t anticipated his broadsword shattering into smithereens, he quickly replaced it with the Guardian’s own spear and jammed it into the robot’s eye.

He collected the ancient shaft and gear that were left behind after the ensuing explosion and continued on to the Guidance Stone, where he received a map. He examined it carefully and found several gold Waypoints scattered throughout its chambers.

 _The terminals that will activate Medoh are marked by those glowing points,_ Revali said. _Think you’re up to it?_

Link frowned and turned back to the center chamber.

He spotted a treasure chest off to one side on a ledge, and after hopping down and carefully navigating around pools of infected ooze, he collected five bomb arrows and replenished his stash.

Link didn’t see an easy way to cross the center chamber to get into either of Medoh’s wings, so he consulted the map and found a new mechanism added to it: _tilt_. His heart leaped at the idea of controlling the Divine Beast’s movements—actually _piloting_ it as originally intended.

He tilted the right wing down to its lowest point and braced himself for the rotation.

Nevertheless, he lost his footing and had to quickly snatch his paraglider to catch himself before he fell. He was fortunate that he had been at a high enough point to glide in along the ceiling of the wing, with a great view of the eye hidden in the far corner of the room.

He killed it before he even landed, and it dropped a bundle—ice arrows.

From his new perch, he examined the layout of the room and wondered what the nearby switch was meant to control. He hit it lightly with his palm to activate the crystal, and then he nearly fell out of the Divine Beast as the window beneath him opened up.

Strong gusts of wind bellowed into the room and kept him inside; in fact they pushed him nearly to the opposite wall. Above him, he could see that a little propeller had been activated by the wind and now glowed a bright blue. Down the hall hung a similar propeller, but it remained unactivated, so far from the reach of the wind.

As he had so often done, Link used Magnesis as his eyes and discovered that the propeller’s base was metallic. He quickly activated it and pulled the propeller into the stream of wind coming from outside.

The nearest gate opened, and the heavy block of stone it had blocked now slid down the length of the room. It hit the wall with an echoing slam, which was certain to have just warned every monster in the Beast that there was an intruder.

No moblins or stalfos came rushing to him, nor did their floating, cursed skulls. Link breathed a sigh of relief and went to see what had happened.

The block of stone had hit a Sheikah mechanism on the wall, and a gate to his left opened to reveal the first terminal. With a smug smile for Revali, Link activated the terminal.

 _There are four remaining!_ Revali called. _Still a ways to go, Link._

It was probably best to ignore the Rito, as he always had, but Link thought of several insults anyway.

He closed the windows and tilted Medoh to the other side. As he glided down the length of the Divine Beast, he spotted a discarded Knight’s bow, which he collected, and another eye just above the doorway to Medoh’s left wing.

An ancient core dropped from the mess and rolled down the length of the next chamber. Link flew in after it.

The eye in this room was already aware of his presence, and two moblin skulls floated after him as he glided down to the floor. He stabbed each of them in the eye socket with his Guardian spear and then threw the spear at the eye. Nothing dropped, but Link looked up and found the way to the next terminal clear—if he could get high enough to reach it

He ran up the ramp at the tip of Medoh’s wing and then used the Slate to tilt the beast in the opposite direction to give him the height he needed.

It was so much like any other puzzle, just longer and scattered with enemies—but when he activated the second terminal, he heard a change in Revali’s voice. _Keep going!_ the Champion urged. Link's heart skipped a beat; the full weight of what he was doing, the sheer  _this-can't-be-happening_ of it all, had started to catch up to him.

He hopped down from the platform and examined the room at the end of Medoh’s wing. He could see another mechanism like the one he’d had to activate with the heavy stone hammer, but he could see no stone to activate it _with_. The only thing in the room was a pile of rubble He lobbed a remote bomb through the grate that separated him from the other room and blasted away the rubble.

With the rocks out of the way, he saw that there was a track dug around the perimeter of the room. Maybe if he got the bomb into the track, he could detonate it close to the switch. Hopefully the blast would be strong enough to push it in.

He could get the bomb close, but with every blast the switch activated—and then deactivated immediately. He needed something to push it in and keep it there.

Link activated Stasis to see if there was anything movable in the other room. At first it seemed that only the switch itself appeared in the Slate’s view, but as he swept it around the room he saw something else. It nearly blended in with the wall, but as he once again tilted Medoh’s wings, his hunch was confirmed: a square section of the wall slid forward to reveal the battering ram he needed.

This block was not made of stone, but rather of metal. With Magnesis, he dragged it on to the track in front of the switch, and he pushed.

With the gate opened and the terminal inside activated soon after, Revali seemed openly shocked at his progress. _You’re almost there!_

He tilted the wings once more and floated down to the main chamber once more. This time, he jumped down into the lower section of the Beast; the last remaining terminals were on Medoh’s wing tips, but they had appeared lower than he had. He assumed he would have to access them form below.

He headed out of the room to Medoh’s right and braced himself against the wind. Night had just begun to fall, and below him, he could see the campfires and torches of travelers all through the Tabantha region. They glistened like distant jewels. Link listened to the lonely wind whistling around him, and he felt the emptiness in his chest grow. What a lonely existence it must have been, to be trapped up here where even birds did not dare to fly—to stare down at one's home for one hundred years and know that life continued below without you.

Link swallowed hard and turned back to his task.

Ahead of him, Link could see another eye, but he was far too far to reach it even with his best bow. He examined it through the Sheikah Scope and found that a cage hung from a track just in front of it.

His heart sank. Jumping into that thing and riding it all the way to the other edge of the wing seemed terribly stupid, but he was at a loss for alternatives. He tilted the Divine Beast back to bring the cage swinging toward him, and once he’d mounted it, he tilted the wings back to send him careening toward the eye.

It took him several tries—and several near-falls—to catch the eye as he approached the far end of the wing, but soon he was inside the chamber it had blocked. Stairs led up from the landing into the tip of the wing—and to the third terminal.

Revali was silent as Link activated it.

“At a loss for words, Champion?” Link asked slyly.

 _What do you know?_ Revali murmured. _The boy can speak_ and _navigate my Medoh._

Link ran to the center of the Divine Beast and swept the room for more of Ganon’s eyes. One was almost completely enclosed in a ribcage, but he destroyed it quickly. A mouth blocked his way out the other door, and after batting away several skulls, Link realized that the eye attached it it must lie on the other side. He tossed a bomb and detonated it right as it passed through the doorway, and sure enough, the mouth crumbled into nothingness.

Outside, Link ran the length of Medoh to find one last eye; this one covered a large turbine that could lift him to the Divine Beast’s back—or, give him enough height to glide comfortably down to the underside of Medoh’s other wing. The sight of the world moving so slowly and so far below him frayed at his nerves, but soon he was inside the wing and had activated the final pedestal.

 _That was the last terminal!_ Revali cried. _Now you just need to start the main control unit! It lies between Medoh’s shoulders—flap to it!_

Link tilted the Divine Beast once more and glided back to the giant terminal he had just uncovered. As he fell back down to the main terminal, he steadied Medoh’s course and leveled her wings once more.

The giant control unit pulsed with amber light and called out to him with an odd ring. Something about its bulbous shape, and the ease at which he had reached it, unnerved him.

Nothing seemed about to jump out at him, but he donned his Soldier’s chest armor and prepared his best equipment—just in case.

 _Goddess give me strength,_ he prayed. _I just need to touch this stone—come on—_

He had expected it, and yet the flare of malicious smoke that spewed from the pedestal made him jump back in terror. His eyes narrowed as the whole unit was consumed in the swirling black and red mass, just as the Castle had when he’d glimpse Calamity Ganon for the first time.

Link was shocked to see blue aura materialize in the air above the control unit and form a solid—abomination—and he could only watch in horror as the monstrous golem of Sheikah technology and Ganon’s malice towered above him. A mane of thick red _hair_ wreathed its mask of Sheikah stone and a Guardian’s eye; its muscular arms led to a giant club of stone and wicked talons. It had no legs: instead, a turbine kept it aloft.

Its birth complete, the scourge of Divine Beast Vah Medoh let out an ear-piercing sound, like a thousand blades shrieking together. Its single blue eye locked on to Link. He felt his stomach fall through the floor.

 _That Windblight is one of Ganon’s own—and it plays dirty!_ Revali’s voice was urgent in Link’s ear. _It defeated me one hundred years ago…but only because I was winging it._

Revali’s pride in the face of his murderer gave Link a shot of courage, and he readied his bow. The Windblight leaned in, a deep growl emanating from its core.

_I can’t believe I’m actually saying this… But you must avenge me, Link!_

"I will."

Link let a bomb arrow fly, and thanks to the Falcon Bow it flew straight and hit its target: the dead center of the Windblight’s eye. The impact sent the monster reeling back, and it crashed to the surface of Vah Medoh with enough force to make Link stumble as he ran for a turbine set in the ground to his right. If he could get the right vantage point, he could fire several arrows at once in the span of his fall.

He reached the apex of the updraft just as the Windblight dematerialized into a giant blue-and-purple ball of light that shot past him. He didn’t turn in time to see it happen, but when he’d swung around on his glider, he found himself staring down the barrel of the Windblight’s arm cannon.

_His aim is dead-on! Watch yourself!_

Link released his glider just as the cannon let loose its charge. The beam was like a Guardian’s—but stronger, faster, hotter. Link fell far enough below it to safely draw his bow once more, and he let loose the longest volley of bomb arrows he could muster.

 _Hit it while it’s down! Hit it_ hard!

Link _landed_ hard. The strain of holding himself in the air, fighting the pull of gravity and the flow of time, had taken its toll, and he struggled to stand, let alone charge at his foe.

The Windblight picked itself up and then phased into the light once more. Link waited for it to reappear on the other side of the control unit, and he took the opportunity to recover some of his stamina. It was going to be a long battle if this thing kept running.

He let the thing lock on to him with its laser, and then he ducked behind the main control unit’s bulb as it fired four heavy blasts in a row.

When it paused to recharge, Link leaped out from his shelter and rushed forward, arrow cocked and ready to blast right in the thing’s face. The dead-center hit did what it was intended to. As the Windblight lay prone before him, Link drove his Guardian sword into its midsection with all his might.

The Windblight screamed and sent him flying with a sweep of its arm. Link tumbled across the ground, only stopped when he hit the base of the control unit—hard.

By that time, his foe had risen up and taken aim with its cannon once again. In that split second, as the charges honed in on Link’s upturned face, he was filled with overwhelming frustration. _This is not how it goes._ He felt it so strongly that it had to be right. _I’ve trained for this._

He raised his shield and, with a desperate shout, parried the first laser strike. The impact left his arm feeling like rubber, but it was enough to send the beam bouncing back through its trailing sisters and struck the Windblight square in the chest. It left a gaping, seared hole in its wake.

The golem let loose another shriek to bring down the sky and crashed to the ground, convulsing; smoke poured from its wound like blood.

 _That’s it!_ Revali screamed through Vah Medoh’s empty halls. _That’s it!_

Link screamed in reply as he took hold of his Soldier’s claymore and swung it in a wide arc that ended right in the Windblight’s face. Its mask of Shiekah technology cracked but did not break, so Link wound up to strike again. This blow struck its cannon-arm, nearly severing it at the elbow.

Link dodged a swipe from the enraged golem and backflipped out of the way of another, but before he could return to attack, the Windblight had become immaterial once more. He followed it with his bow as it shot from corner to corner, finally coming to rest high above the arena, where it took shape just out of Link’s range.

It roared, shook its head furiously at the Hylian boy, and spread its wounded limbs wide. From its back erupted three projectiles that arched high in the air—and plunged toward Link.

He was forced to stow his weapons and run for the nearest air vent, and he was _just_ fast enough to avoid the triangulated laser beams the projectiles emitted. He figured that if he incapacitated their puppeteer, they would soon fall. He just needed to catch him.

The Windblight had picked up speed, now that it did not have its targeting arm available, and it dodged quickly as Link sent bomb arrows flying toward it. Link knew he’d have to get within close range to make the critical hits he needed. But if the Windblight was fast, its autonomous projectiles were faster.

Link dropped from the air, tucked, and rolled upon impact, dodging several volleys of lasers and—a tornado? Somehow the Windblight has summoned a vortex of hot air that nearly caught Link and sent him flying off the side of the Beast. He jumped up, now just a few feet from the Windblight, and released his bowstring.

Link was caught in the blast of his own bomb arrow, but the searing heat and caustic splatter of debris and ooze was worth it: the Windblight took a direct hit to its eye, and the crack in its mask deepened.

 _One more hit,_ Link thought, as he squinted through his tearing eyes. _One more._

Windblight raised its arms and tried to summon something—but Link had dropped his bow and charged, claymore ready.

He spun like a top, the blade chopping through the Windblight’s torso and abdomen with every turn. Link’s arms burned from the poisonous matter and from exertion, but he did not let go until the blade snapped.

Then he stabbed and lunged away.

The monster screamed and fell, clutching its abdomen, and its projectiles clattered to the ground heavily. Link grabbed his discarded bow, rolled, and spun on one knee to take aim once more.

The monster dragged itself up by its one intact arm; the remains of the other dragged behind it, along with its guts. It shrieked constantly as it approached along the ground, but there was nothing it could do.

The bomb met its mark; its mask cracked. The lights inside it flickered and went out.

Link _nearly_ screamed in anger when the Windblight rose up in the air-- _was this not over yet?!--_ but as it began to convulse and boil, he realized this was the end. It raised its fist in anger—and then smoke and blood and a terrible light burst from its chest and it disintegrated into nothing.


	23. Communing with the Goddess.

Hylia’s presence filled the arena in the wake of Ganon’s blight. Link nearly collapsed with relief, and he bowed his head over his knee as he tried to catch his breath.

_Dear One! You have wrested from Ganon the very life force he stole to build this abomination… I grant it now to you. May it enhance your strength._

Link leaned in to her embrace, and tears dripped from his face onto his hands. The thick gore of the Windblight turned to dust and faded away, leaving intact and unburned skin in its wake. He felt bruised and exhausted, but he knew that he was stronger for it. _Thank you,_ he prayed. _Thank you._

He wiped his face on his sleeve and approached the main control terminal. He pressed the Slate to the Sheikah symbol and let the cool blue glow of the aura fill him and the Divine Beast.

“Well, I’ll be plucked…”

Link turned; the voice had come from above him, not from all around, and indeed he found that he was no longer alone on the surface of Vah Medoh.

Revali landed lightly before him, and the winds that tore through the arena whipped his braids and scarf around him like flames.

“Well done,” he said, gesturing around at the arena. “I suppose I should thank you now that my spirit is free. This returns Medoh back to its rightful owner!” His clear joy was tempered by his sly, sidelong glance at Link. “But don’t preen yourself just for doing your job.”

Link smiled slightly, and he saw Revali’s eyes light up. Had he ever smiled at the warrior _before_? Would that have made the difference, so long ago?

“I do suppose you’ve proven your value as a warrior—a warrior worthy of my unique ability—” Revali raised his right wing, then brought it close to his chest “—the sacred skill that I have dubbed Revali’s Gale!”

He spread his wings wide, then brought them together with such might that the gust they created could have blown Link over; flames followed the wind, and they hit him square in the chest. Instead of throwing him back, however, they entered him, and warmed his spirit.

Wind rose up _around_ him, in a vortex that was strong enough to lift him from the ground. He laughed joyously at the sensation—then gasped as he was vaulted several yards higher by a sudden gust. He tumbled, heels over head, and saw the ground looming close.

He landed in a crouch and looked up at Revali, his smile now taking up his whole face. Revali’s own expression was one of utter satisfaction…and a tinge of melancholy.

The Rito turned to look out at Hyrule. “It’s now time to move on and start making preparations for Medoh’s strike on Ganon…” He looked back at Link. “But only if you think you’ll still need my help while you’re fighting inside Hyrule Castle.”

“Of course,” Link said. His voice rasped from the strain of battle. “I cannot do this alone.”

Revali snapped his fingers and pointed at Link. “Feel free to thank me now,” he said rakishly.

Both of them looked up as Hylia’s presence filled the space once more; Link felt a tingling in his limbs and looked down to see himself flickering away into golden light.

Revali chuckled. “Or never mind, just go. Your job is far from finished, you know.” As Link vanished from the surface of the Divine Beast, he heard Revali’s somber sigh. “The princess has been waiting an awful long time.”

Link returned to his body in front of Hylia’s statue at the base of Rito Village. He heard the raucous cry of Vah Medoh above him, and he looked up to see the Divine Beast circling closer to the Village. Its feet lowered and stretched out to clasp the rock formation that protruded from high above the Village, and it locked into place with surprising grace, wings outstretched.

Link could see Rito warriors circling it cautiously, and he was filled with pride knowing that it would never again shoot down another Rito returning home.

Vah Medoh lowered its proud beak; a fantastic red light gathered at its tip. It took aim, and it locked on to Hyrule Castle.

 

He did not find Teba in his house, but Kaneli awaited him in his roost.

“You survived!” the elder cried. “To think that the beast has taken up roost at the top of the village! It looks simply…divine.”

Link smiled wearily.

“If the legends are true, ‘the light from the Divine Beasts will ravage the Calamity.’ For now, Divine Beast Vah Medoh will become the protector of this village once again and live on in our legends…alongside you.” The elder gestured at a chest beside his great chair. “Please, we must thank you. You will get more use of this than I.”

Link crossed the room to unlock the chest as Kaneli continued to speak. “What you did was miraculous. Though I should expect nothing less of one from the bloodline of a Champion. Why, you are almost the equal of the very Hylian Champion who fought with Master Revali one hundred years ago…”

Kaneli sighed wistfully. “They say the Hylian Champion wielded the sword that seals the darkness that now sleeps in the Lost Woods.”

Link straightened up, the Great Eagle Bow in hand. “What?”

“Oh, this is a bow without equal—Revali’s own!” Kaneli said excitedly. “It’s said he could loose arrows with the speed of a gale! It has been enchanted to take send three arrows flying when but one is notched.”

That wasn’t what Link had asked, but it was a _very_ useful piece of information. He would need to save the bow for a…special occasion.

 

Link bought himself a Rito-down bed for what remained of the night and slept until noon. When he woke, his soreness and his fatigue had vanished.

“Teba stopped by,” the innkeeper said when Link came by to compliment the quality of his rest. “He would like you to meet him at his home.”

Teba’s wife was nowhere to be found, and neither was his son; the warrior seemed to be meditating In the quiet of his home.

“I hear you’ve got the Great Eagle Bow from the elder,” Teba said when Link appeared in the doorway. “That thing is way too heavy for Rito to use in aerial fighting—I’d end up sacrificing all of my speed just to take a shot. Now, if I had both the strength and speed of Master Revali, that would be a different story.” Teba’s eyes flashed. "Seeing the way you handled your bow against Medoh, I suggested we let you borrow it for your fight against Calamity Ganon.”

Link clasped the Rito’s hand in his own. “Thank you, Teba. Your people are lucky to have you watching over them.”

“Well then.” Teba looked to the side, where his wife and son stood on Revali’s landing. “When my wounds are healed, I’ll be taking Tulin to the Flight Range. I hope he grows up to be a distinguished warrior like Master Revali.”

“He will have a great teacher.”

 

Link returned to Hateno and went to his house. Bolson had indeed prepared a door for him, and the key was hidden under a rock nearby. He had also delivered on his promise to leave a weapon mount for Link, and he was glad to find that it was for a bow.

He hooked Revali’s bow on the wall, locked the door, and set his sights on Mount Lanayru. With his Snowquill headdress and trousers, he felt ready to find the Spring of Wisdom.

Scaling the foothills took most of the afternoon, and when he finally reached the snowline he began to question the wisdom of climbing Mount Lanayru after sunset. He felt comforted with the knowledge that he had the Sheikah Slate at his side.

He wished he had the Snowquill tunic so that he could wear his climbing bandanna to enhance his climbing in the snow. Pikango’s warning proved true: Rito boots kept his steps light atop the snow, but when scaling cliffs he struggled to find safe outcroppings to hoist himself onto. It seemed that every cliff was topped with several feet of ice and snow that he must punch through to get to safety.

He was grateful for the Snowquill’s enchanted warmth, but he could still feel the glacial winds on his face and in his hair. He had donned his warm doublet, and occasionally the wind would tear through the outer layer and run its chilly fingers down his spine. Each breath burned his throat and sinuses with cold.

Finally, he reached the peak of the mountain—only to find a deep valley below him that he must cross to reach Lanayru. Hidden in the wail of the wind, he heard wolves howl somewhere below.

A single pine tree had survived the elements and made its home at the top of this peak of Madorna Mountain. Two more were visible to his east, each with their own mountain peaks to call their own.

Link steadied himself against the trunk of the pine and watched the waxing moon, nearly full, slide into view on the horizon. It illuminated the snowfields below and gilded the peak of Mount Lanayru with silver.

Link squinted at the peak. He thought he had seen something move—something massive—and he pulled out the Sheikah Scope to get a closer look. He could not tell what he was looking at, but it was purple and moved as though it were breathing.

Something waited for him.

Link leaped from the peak and landed on the far side of the snowfield. The rocks here were black and largely bare of snow; instead, they were slick with black ice. He nearly slipped upon landing, which would have sent him rolling down into the deep recesses of the valley.

He crested a ridge and found what had once clearly been a path. Stairs were carved into the stone of the mountain itself, wide enough for cart horses. The way was lined with luminous stone deposits that Link happily chipped at with his sledgehammer.

He heard what sounded like a boulder crashing above him, and he pressed himself flat against the side of the cliff. No boulder or avalanche of snow headed his way, however; instead, a creature of ice and stone rumbled slowly down the stairs above him. It raised a arm and swung it in his direction, and though he stood a safe distance from the thing, he could hear the way it cut the air and knew it would pack a punch.

Fortunately, a few hits with the iron sledgehammer was all it took to crack the body apart and reveal the gemstones within. Shards of amber, some with insects trapped in them, and a few more precious stones scattered across the cliffs and threatened to tumble into the ravine below. Link snatched them all up and continued his winding way up Mount Lanayru.

Pillars of solid ice rose high into the air like the fortifications around a castle. Link peered through them to see what they might have enclosed, but the snow that covered the surface was too thick to pierce. The pillars became more green, then blue as he neared the peak—and the Spring. The air had changed, too; while his breathing had become more labored a few hundred feet ago, what he smelled on the air now was _magic_. The air was thick was it, and even sounds traveled differently in it. He could ear the mountain cracking, creaking, below him. Every step echoed distantly, deeply, as if he were a heavy giant stepping on thick ice.

Link paused as he came up the last hill. He now understood what he had seen wrapped around the peak of Mount Lanayru.

One of the dragon’s coils wrapped around the base of the Spring in front of him, its flat, pink belly scales exposed like a roof above his head. Its body was covered in thick, black scales webbed with purple flesh—and Malice. The dragon had draped itself between the icy columns and rocky crevasses of the mountain, and its head hung over the statue of Hylia, weighed down by a mass of pulsing blight.

Ripples of golden light surrounded the Goddess Statue.

 _You have done well to find your way to this spring._ Hylia’s voice was more distant than he had expected, and Link took a surprised step forward. _This place has been poisoned by Ganon’s Malice. The one you see before you is an attendant to the Spring of Wisdom: Naydra, the blue spirit of Lanayru._

_This servant of the Goddess has looked over the spirits of this land for ages, unknown to the world of man. Dear One, free Naydra from this malice! Show what your power can achieve!_

Hylia had never commanded him so—the tones of her voice in his heart resonated in his chest, in his spirit. In his soul. In the charged air, Link felt like—like—

_Focus._

That’s all the Hero had ever said, but that’s all he needed to say.

Link approached the Spring, readying his bow, and the giant eye on Naydra’s forehead snapped open. The fiery, reptilian pupil widened, then narrowed to a thin slit as it recognized his presence.

Link threaded it through with a fire arrow, and Naydra roared in pain or shock or joy, Link could not tell. The ground shook, the air rippled, as the dragon began to unspool itself from its perch on the mountain.

Shards of ice had fused onto its back, and they, too, glowed purple as Naydra picked up speed. Link ducked behind a giant pillar of ice to avoid a mighty sweep of its tail. The ice screamed, wailed, and cracked upon impact.

The fire of Revali’s Gale swirled around him as he crouched, and then he burst into the sky between the swirling dragon’s coils. He was able to catch a giant Malicious eye on Naydra’s underbelly with a swift arrow; he landed heavily on the ice at the very top of Mount Lanayru. The dragon roared once more, and its claws plowed through the air as though swimming on thick currents of magic.

The dragon wove its way down to the snowfield below, and Link pursued.

Strong winds rose up around the dragon to keep it—and Link—aloft, and as he glided in from above he could see two more eyes on Naydra’s back. He rose up on a gust and then let go of his glider to prepare an arrow for the one on the dragon’s tail.

Naydra moved faster, now that he had freed it of so much of Ganon’s Malice, and it dove beneath Link, headed back toward Mount Lanayru. Its head passed just under his dangling feet. He found that this near the dragon, the magic became too thick to breathe.

Link rose high on an updraft—so high that the glowing orange target on Naydra’s shoulder was but a speck beneath him. The mental calculus of bow drop, wind direction, and projectile trajectory came naturally to Link, and he aimed his bow far from its mark.

By the time he landed at Hylia’s feet once more, his arrow had found the end of its arc: dead-center in the Malicious eye.

The purple and black that had consumed Naydra from head to tail began to freeze. Shafts of white light pierced the brittle residue, and with a mighty shudder, the dragon cast off Ganon’s touch.

Link watched in awe as Naydra’s ethereal glow illuminated the spring; the dragon settled around the peak of the mountain, its blue claws clasping the ice on either side of the Goddess. Its arched neck held its mighty head high, and its fierce eyes were on Link as he approached the Spring.

_Thanks to your efforts, Naydra, spirit of Mount Lanayru, has been freed from the grips of an evil power. But a single ceremony remains._

The dragon bowed its head.

_Loose your arrow to set free the spirit of this region!_

Blue aura pulsed through Naydra’s horns as he came closer. It felt wrong to take a shot at the head he had just freed from a mass of Malice, but Link readied a non-elemental arrow and aimed at the thick scales just behind Naydra’s horns.

The shot knocked loose a scale that clattered onto the dais at the center of the Spring, and with a mighty roar Naydra pushed off of the mountain top. It circled high above the Spring, and a vortex opened up above it. It rose higher and higher, until it reached that gaping hole in the heavens, and then it was gone from this world.

Link stepped on to the dais and picked up Naydra’s fallen scale. It was as cold as ice and as large as his head.

_Naydra’s scale serves as proof of your courage, a badge of honor received from one who served this Spring since ancient times. Come… Offer the scale from the blue spirit to the Spring of Wisdom… to the Golden Goddess Herself._

Link approached the Goddess Statue and waded in to the frigid waters. The ancient symbol of Hylia was carved into the stone at his feet, and he stood there, with her, in the presence of Nayru.

He could not stop his shivering, and it was more than the water. This force was more ancient than his land, his soul, even his Goddess. Her servant was a dragon, and he was but a man. He wondered if he had ever been in her presence in a past life.

Nayru did not speak as he placed the scale in the water at the foot of the Goddess Statue. It melted away into divine light that melted his own fear and cold.

Stone groaned behind the statue, and Link peered around it to see a doorway revealed in the cliff face. Through it shone the light of a Shrine.

_Your path has shown itself. Go forth._

Nayru was gone, and Hylia followed, but their warmth remained.


	24. The Chill of Fate.

Link had collected the frostspear and spirit orb the monk had offered, but he was loathe to leave the warmth of the Shrine. It took all of his remaining strength to return to the cave—and he was pleasantly surprised to find that the Goddesses’ warmth had remained.

He considered fast traveling back to Rito Village to spend another night in a Rito down bed, but Link felt the need to conserve his rupees… and he felt safe and warm enough in the hidden room behind the Spring. He unpacked his bedroll right on the Travel Gate and slept peacefully.

 

By morning’s light, a chill had crept into the Spring, and Link woke with a shiver. He packed up camp and waded out of the Shrine.

He took off from the peak and headed west across the Naydra Snowfields. A forest of pines sprang up below him, shrouded in a thick layer of snow. As he slowly lost altitude, he saw a path worn into the center of the field, and he landed along that strip. Soon, he passed from snow, to shrubs, to grass. The road passed between two large boulders, finally marking the end of the snowfields.

He paused there to don his more rugged armor, and as he changed, Link spotted something in the distance that looked like a horse. He got out his Sheikah Scope and almost immediately dropped it. He didn’t need memories to know that that beast was dangerous, and that it had seen him.

He ran back behind the boulders and crouched low to skirt the plain. He didn’t care if he had to go miles to the north; he was not going to face that monster right now. He hoped that it had also decided that he was not worth the effort.

It felt like he spent an eternity crawling through the grass, but he eventually came around to the far end of the field and reached the Lanayru Road East Gate. He double checked that the man-lion-horse beast was out of view, and he stepped out into the open.

He followed the road through the Gate. A cold wind off the Mountain pushed him forward, as it had one hundred years ago when he had made this journey on foot, and not alone.

 

_Link walked three paces behind, but one to the side so that he could see her face. His heart ached; it weighed him down, and each step was a battle of its own._

_Three paces ahead, Zelda walked—floated—with her eyes on the ground. The cold winds of Lanayru swept her dress back, pushed against their faces, as if to say, “Go back. You’re not done.”_

_But they were. They were. He had insisted._

_When she had turned to him, dry-eyed, in the waters of the Spring, and in the tiniest voice asked him what she should do, he had wanted to curse the Goddesses and drag her away from Hyrule forever. She had admired his dedication to his destiny, but her unwavering faith in the ancient gods was far stronger than any he had._

_His destiny was simple: find the sword, get strong, don’t die. He had no holy voices to hear or purification to undergo. He believed in his sword, in Fi, and the one Goddess who had forged her for him so long ago. He could feel the steel of the Master Sword; he could see Hylia in the eyes of the princess before him. Yet her destined path, simple as it was, left her so empty. She poured herself out for these invisible, untouchable beings who had forsaken Hyrule so long ago, for her father, for her people, for the very earth beneath her feet—and yet the triune Goddesses did not grant her the power she sought, she needed._

_Zelda had not cried when he told her that they were done. She did not cry now, as the Champions approached with desperate hope in their eyes._

_“Well? Don’t keep us in suspense,” the bearded man had said desperately. Zelda continued to walk, and the Champions followed her. “How’d everything go up there on the mountain?”_

_Link’s eyes were firmly locked on Zelda. She finally stopped, and for a moment it seemed like she’d turn to him. Ultimately, she stopped herself and shook her head._

_Revali took a step closer. His voice was uncharacteristically soft. “So you didn’t feel anything? No power at all?”_

_Zelda clasped her hands before her and looked down once more. “I’m sorry, no.”_

_Silence fell between them, and Link felt the tension in his body come close to snapping._

_The tallest Champion, gilt in gold and ruby, finally said what he had been thinking. “Then let’s move on. You’ve done all you could. Feeling sorry for yourself won’t be of any help. After all, it’s not like your last shot was up there on Mount Lanayru.”_

_The woman looked up at the offending landmark, her hand on her hip. “Anything could finally spark the power to seal Ganon away. It could be Ganon’s presence that ignites it in you, for all we know.”_

_Link looked intently at Zelda as she smiled. It was as hollow as a mask. Over her shoulder, he met the eyes of the last Champion, garbed in silver and turquoise._

_“If I may…”_

_Zelda raised her head, lips parted to assent, but no words came out._

_“I thought you… Well, I’m not sure how to put this into words…” The woman looked down at her taloned hands, then took the Princess’s in her own. “I’m actually quite embarrassed to say it, but I was thinking about what I do when I’m healing. When I call upon my magic, which is what we believe you are trying to do…” She met the Princess’s eyes, and the openness on the Champion’s face touched Link. The pain of what he knew she was about to say burned in his chest, but he knew its value. “It helps when I think—when I think about—”_

_She never got to finish what she was about to say. The entire world had churned beneath there feet and sent them toppling into one another. Revali’s first instinct was to get away from the shifting earth, and he shot up into the sky for a better vantage point._

_The look of abject horror on his face was enough to send ice shooting through Link’s veins._

_A vortex of red sky and black lightning had opened up above Hyrule Castle, and through it erupted a beast—a dragon of sorts—made of poison._

_“This is it, then…” the bearded Champion said._

_Zelda dropped her hands from her face. “It’s awake.” She took a terrified step backward, and Link rose to meet her. He stopped short of putting his hand on her back; the bearded Champion had begun to growl. “We’re going to need everything we got to take that thing down!” He rose up, gesturing vehemently with his mighty hands. “Link will need to meet Ganon head-on when we attack. This needs to be a unified assault!”_

_Link had been training for this his whole life. He had achieved the outward marks of readiness: he had pulled the Master Sword from the base of the Deku Tree, he had heard its voice, he had been appointed the Goddess-Blood Princess’s Knight and Champion. Yet when he heard the truth spoken, now, he felt suddenly that they had chosen the wrong man—the wrong boy._

_Link felt very much the child that he was._

_“Little guy! You get to Hyrule Castle. You can count on us for support, but it’s up to you to pound Ganon into oblivion!”_

_Link nodded dumbly._

_“Now, Champions! To your Divine Beasts! Show that swirling swine who’s boss!”_

_The tall woman stepped between Link and Zelda and braced the Princess’s shoulders. “Come,” she said gently. “We should go. We need to get you someplace safe.”_

_Link opened his mouth to protest. His place was at her side, as her appointed knight. He would not leave her to rush headfirst into battle with an ageless, ancient evil._

_But Zelda got to it first._

_“No!” she said firmly. “I am not a child anymore. I will not be hidden away while the adults do what they think is best. There must—there must be something I can do to help!”_

_The bearded Champion seemed quite cowed. He scratched the back of his neck nervously._

_Link took a step forward. “Zelda,” he said softly. Every eye turned to him. “We must go to the Castle.”_

 

Link blinked away tears. Perhaps it was that the memory itself was so vivid, or perhaps it was because he had regained so many pieces of himself already, but this memory was more than a flashback into a scene that had happened at this particular spot. It was blurry around the edges and offered insight into the before and after.

He felt less unsettled by this memory, though it certainly disturbed him. His spirit had railed against the Golden Goddesses for their treatment of their most loyal daughter, servant, protector. Even with the Master Sword on his back, even with the knowledge of his purpose and his history, he had wanted to forsake it all for her. How had it come to that?

Since waking in the Shrine of Resurrection, he had certainly despaired, and he had resented the burden placed on him by the expectations of a whole kingdom of people. Never had he been so resentful of the Goddesses themselves—and even in the darkest moment, he had not been so ready to turn his back on his duty. Not like he had at the top of Mount Lanayru.

Link slowly made his way west down Lanayru Road. The path built out of the side of the cliffs was crumbling from disrepair, and it was littered with monsters both on the path and in the water below. He avoided them as best he could, but the Lizalfos had the uncanny ability to blend in completely with the stone around them.

His Sheikah Slate began to vibrate as he neared the waterfall at the Lanayru Promenade, and he stared at it for a while. Was he meant to scale it? The rock looked slick with algae—it would surely take all day. Then Link spotted the ruined walkway to the right of the falls, and he immediately anticipated the likely path he must take.

He took a running start and threw himself off the crumbling precipice of the Lanayru Promenade and crossed the river full of Lizalfos.

He found the tunnel easily—its mouth was lined with luminous stones that glowed dimly in the morning light. He harvested most of them before entering Daw Na’eh’s Shrine.

He made swift work of the trial with a combination of Cryonis and Magnesis. He so often forgot about the runes, so he appreciated the reminder—and the opal, Zora sword, and amber he received for his efforts.

He could not help but think, as he navigated the Shrine and reached Daw Na’eh, that the details of the Shrines, the monks—their jewelry, their poses, even the construction of the trials themselves—would have thrilled someone more scholarly than he. Someone like Zelda.

_The princess has been waiting for an awfully long time..._

Link took out the Slate and took a photo of Daw Na’eh, before the monk disappeared into the aura. He did not know how many shrines there were, but he was suddenly excited to document as many as he could before he reached Zelda.

 

He made his way north now, through the Lanayru Road’s West Gate. The plains beyond were filled with tall grass and wildlife. He replenished his stock of raw meats and prime cuts and continued on through the trees.

He always seemed to hear the accordion before he ever heard Kass’s voice. It wasn’t until he’d reached the ancient tree stump that the bard had made his perch that he heard the words of Kass’s song.

 

 _“This is but one of the legends_  
_of which the people speak:_

 _In a prosperous land_  
_blessed with green forests and peace,_  
_all hope had died; the future seemed bleak._

 _With the golden power stolen,_  
_darkness fell across the land._  
_But the Hero of Time appeared with a blade in hand:_

_the bane of evil; the answer to our prayers—”_

 

Kass saw Link approaching and waved him down. “It is good to see you! Did you enjoy your stay in Rito Village?”

Link nearly laughed. “I liked the town,” he told the bard honestly. “I have never slept in a softer bed than at the Swallow’s Roost.”

“Cecili will be proud,” Kass replied. “I am glad. I left Tabantha soon after we spoke, but I’ve heard a rumor in my travels that Vah Medoh has taken roost atop the Village. Is it true?”

“The spirit of Revali had been trapped in the Beast by Ganon’s blight, but now that he’s free he has resumed control of Medoh. His spirit won’t rest until Ganon has been destroyed.”

Kass’s eyes flashed with excitement. “There is a verse passed on in our sung legends, ‘the light from the Divine Beasts will ravage the Calamity.’ It seems that you have quite the knack for bringing these songs of ours to life.”

Link smiled wryly at that. “The song you were singing when I came up,” he said. “It is the story of the Hero of Time?”

The bard nodded. “I believe that it is a lullaby, dating back to a time before the Great Flood. It was sung by a people who longed so much for the Hero of Time to return that they dressed every boy in his colors when they came of age. The green of these fields reminded me of it. Speaking of which—”

Kass hopped down from his perch on the tree trunk and walked over to a raised dais nearby. It had been so hidden in the tall grass that Link hadn’t seen it as he’d approached, but he recognized its Sheikah origin.

“I have discovered the ancient verse passed down in this region:

 

 _“A beast that wears a crown of bone,_  
_Prancing through the lush green_  
  
_Mount the beast upon its throne,_  
_For only then the shrine is seen.”_

 

Kass turned to Link. “I suppose ‘the lush green’ must refer to this place. But what sort of beast wears a ‘crown of bone’?”

“A stag,” Link suggested.

“Of course.” Kass squeezed his accordion excitedly. “It must be a trial of its own to mount such a shy creature.”

“I can imagine.” Link looked over at the copse of trees he had passed through earlier, which he now knew was the home of a large herd of deer. Link was not in the mood to attempt such a feat, but he needed to go in that direction anyway if he were to reach his destination.

He said goodbye to the bard and headed north.


	25. A Great Shock.

When he reached the edge of the cliff, he readied his glider and jumped as far as he could. The river’s mouth was widest here, but he made it most of the way across. The current was strong when he finally splashed down into the water, and a school of fat fish scattered around him. He pulled out the Slate, treading water with only his legs, and set up a small triangle of Cryonis blocks to block some of the current. He hauled himself onto them and lay out on his back to catch his breath.

The early Spring sun was warm that day, and the ice beneath him was pleasantly cool. It was a nice change from the glacial conditions atop Lanayru, and here in the middle of the River he felt peaceful and safe. He could have remained there, baking in the sun, forever.

But he did not. He ate his meal atop the Cryonis blocks and fished for a little with a Lizal spear before finally continuing.

He followed the river bank around a bend and found the Sheikah Tower looming high above him.

A voice called out from his left—from the river.

“Oh my! Oh, wow! It’s a Hylian! A real Hylian!”

Link stared at the red fish woman, and for a moment he saw the Champion from Lanayru Road, but it was not her. He shook himself. “Hello?”

“Go see Prince Sidon!” she shouted. “He’s waiting at Inogo Bridge, upstream of Zora River. Please listen to what dear Prince Sidon has to say! I know it’s sudden, but you’ll understand everything once you get there.”

Link was headed in that direction already, so he threw the woman a tentative thumbs-up and set off once more.

The mountain was full of boko encampments—and entire patches of hearty radishes. Link skulked by the encampments in secret for the most part, scaling cliffs when he could and fighting only when he had to. Finally, he reached the peak of the mountain and the base of Lanayru Tower.

Climbing it was the most straightforward task he’d faced in a while. No spikes, high winds, or Malice stood in his way, and soon he had activated the Tower and collected the map of the region.

He turned from the pedestal and found himself face to face with another fish person—this time, a tall blue male with terror in his eyes.

“It is apparent that you are a traveler, but m-may I ask what brought you here?”

“Uh, I think one of your friends down there told me to come this way and find Prince Sidon—”

“I, Gruve of the Zora, by order of Prince Sidon of Zora’s domain, am also searching for a Hylian!”

“Did you climb up here to get a better view?” Link cocked his head to the side. “That’s impressive.”

“Well…no.” Gruve cast a fearful glance down at the land below. “I was sleeping atop the peak when suddenly the ground shook—and this Tower sprang up around me!”

Link stared at the Zora, dumbstruck. “That was two weeks ago,” he said. “You’ve been up here this whole time?”

Gruve covered his face. “I am a great warrior! I’m just scared of heights! Please don’t tell the Prince!”

Link continued to stare at the Zora and tried to contain his laughter. He turned away from Gruve to hide his smile, and he reached into his pack. “You must be starving. Here.”

Gruve gratefully gobbled the meat skewer and clapped his fins. “My luck is certainly improving,” he said joyously. He whirled around and shouted off the side of the Tower, “PRINCE SIDON! I FOUND ONE! HE’LL BE DOWN SOON!”

Link pulled the Zora back from the edge of the Tower. “I’ll go to the Prince,” he assured him, “but do you need help getting down?”

Gruve rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I should swallow my fear and jump to the river below,” he admitted. Something occurred to him, and he brightened up. “Then I could return to him! He must be worried sick.”

“Jump with me,” Link said, pulling out his glider. “We’ll reach the Prince together.”

Gruve stared at him, then turned back to the edge. “…No! Nope! Can’t do it! But you must go!”

Link finally agreed and glided down to the shrine he had seen below at the base of the bridge. He activated the Soh Kofi Travel Gate and entered the Shrine.

He almost laughed when he found that it was a Minor Test of Strength. He equipped a spear and shield that he didn’t mind breaking against a Guardian and ran headlong into the trial.

This Guardian was armed with a sword and a shield, and he coveted them both as soon as he saw them. After one well-timed dodge, he’d done a great deal of damage to its inner workings. The robot leaped back, straightened out its arms, and began to spin.

_That’s new._

He didn’t have time to dodge it well—he nearly got his head severed just from ducking—but he was lucky that the Guardian ran straight into a stone pillar and got stuck instead of turning around and killing him. He got near the sparking hunk of metal, but just as he prepared to strike, the Guardian fired a series of stunning charges to send him back. Link ducked behind his shield and tried to keep his footing amid the barrage.

The moment the Guardian began charging up its next laser strike, Link lunged for its outstretched sword arm and beat it until it snapped. The Guardian stumbled away on its damaged legs and dropped its shield, retreating into its crab-like state. Its head began to rotate, carving a burning trail into the ground where its laser swung.

Link ran behind a stone pillar just before the laser could hit him, but the heat of it was enough to stir up gale-force winds within the Shrine. They were strong enough that, when he opened his glider, he was lifted up to the ceiling.

From this vantage point, Link had a clear shot with his spear, and the Guardian exploded into bits and pieces—taking his spear with it.

There was a spring in his step as he collected the Guardian’s sword and shield and screws. He earned a Knight’s bow and a spirit orb for his efforts, but he continued to study the Guardian shield as he exited the shrine. It was so light when it was in its dormant state, and its small size increased his maneuverability a surprising amount. The glow it cast was certainly strong enough to illuminate any dark space he’d find himself in.  
In the time Link had been in the Shrine, a dark cloud had fallen over the region. Rain poured steadily down overhead.

A Zora soldier was examining the Shrine when he exited. “Oh, my! How wonderful! I am Torfeau of the Zora! My prince, Sidon, has been looking for a Hylian for a very long time! Our home is in terrible danger. He awaits you there, atop the Bridge! Would you please go talk to him and perhaps save us all?”

The lighthearted tone that Torfeau had stood in hard contrast to the information he’d just given Link. Link gave him a hard look and set off toward the Bridge.

  
“Say, hey there! Young one!”

Link looked up at the source of the voice: a red Zora standing atop one of the Guardhouses. He waved at the Zora who, in response, flipped over the ledge and landed on the ground heavily before Link.

Unlike the other Zora, who were slender and unadorned, the Prince was tall, muscular, and decked out in the trappings of royalty. His fins were long and strong, with exotic frills that belied his status. Like the Champion of old, his scales were red and dipped low over his brow.

“Pardon the entrance.”

“I was sent here by some of your scouts,” Link said. “They mentioned a terrible danger awaiting Zora’s Domain.”

“Indeed—oh, where are my manners? I am Sidon, prince of the Zora!” His fiendishly pointed teeth gleamed in the murk of the storm. “And what shall I call you?”

“Link.”

“Your name is Link?!” Sidon exclaimed. Link looked up at the Zora with wide eyes. “I feel as though I’ve heard it before! Well, in any case, I can tell by how you carry yourself that you are no ordinary person. I am a Zora Prince—I have an eye for talent that is unparalleled!”

“What do you need a Hylian for?” Link asked. “I came to help.”

Sidon gestured at the sky. “The Domain is in grave danger because of this massive rainfall coming from Divine Beast Vah Ruta! We believe that only a Hylian can assist us. Will you please return to Zora’s Domain with me, Link?”

“Sure thing.”

The Prince raised his fists in victory before him. “Thank you, Link! Zora’s Domain will be saved for certain! No time to waste! Let’s hurry!” He pointed down the length of the bridge. “The cliffs are too wet to climb because of the deluge. To reach the domain, you will need to go straight along this path. The lamps will guide you on foot—and I will follow via the river.”

Link nodded and motioned to leave, but the Prince held out a clawed hand. “You likely have a tough fight in store—there are monsters up ahead that attack with electricity. But don’t give up! I believe in you!”

His fierce smile was meant to be encouraging, but it too closely resembled the fierce grin of a hungry animal for Link to be comforted by it. Nevertheless, he shook the Prince’s hand. “I’ll see you at the capitol,” he told Sidon.

“Here—take this as a sign of my faith in you!” The Prince handed Link a small bottle of yellow-green liquid. “It is an electro elixir I made myself.”

He thanked the Prince and watched him dive off the side of the Bridge and disappear upstream.

Link set off across the Inogo Bridge and immediately saw the dangers that lurked ahead. A giant balloon-like creature rose up out of the water, a giant boulder in its mouth, which it loosed at him upon sight. Link ducked it quickly and returned the favor with an arrow, then aimed at the Lizalfos that remained camouflaged in the rocks by the water downstream.

His arrow struck the lizard monster square in the forehead, and the monster screamed, suddenly surrounded in a cascade of crackling electricity. Link lobbed an ice arrow at the paralyzed creature to freeze it solid, then approached with a heavy, spiked boko club to finish the job.

He collected the shattered remains of the Lizalfos for future elixirs and continued on.

Prince Sidon had been correct: the journey to Zora’s Domain was a long, drawn out battle with the elements, lizard monsters, and shooty-balloon creatures. He did his best to snipe Lizalfos from afar with arrows and bombs to avoid direct confrontation.

He followed the lamps, as Sidon had instructed. It seemed that there were abandoned camps everywhere he looked. Discarded pieces of armor, scattered rupees, dropped rations lay all along the path, ripe for the taking. He wondered how many Hylians the Zora had persuaded to make this journey, and how many had fallen or fled along the way. Link wasn’t certain that he would have made it this far, if he had set out here from Kakariko two weeks ago.

He certainly wouldn’t have felt this comfortable taking out a whole camp of Lizalfos and stealing all of their steely, spiked weaponry.

The rain only seemed to intensify as he approached the Domain, but birds sang in the trees unperturbed. By the time he reached his destination, his pack was close to bursting with all that he had found. He hoped to sell most of it.

The cliffs around him seemed to be made of glass. One large tablet carved into the rock face itself had informed him that the Zora Domain was one giant sculpture, and he soon came to see why.

He crossed a long bridge that appeared to have been carved from a kind of stone that contained water inside of it. It shimmered and flowed under his feet.

He heard a distant shout from beneath him, and he ran to the side of the bridge to see Sidon far, far below. “LOOK OUT!” the Prince bellowed. “A monster—behind you!”

Link had not heard the moblin approaching in the rain. He was grateful for the Prince’s warning, for it gave him just enough time to do a backward roll out of the way of the mobln’s mighty club,

He sprang up, bow already drawn, and fired an arrow point-blank into the moblin’s eye.

The monster swayed, stumbled back, and toppled over the side of the bridge. Link collected the moblin’s fallen club and continued on without pause.

Link came across another abandoned camp and set a bomb to open up the metal storage containers that had been left behind. In the echo of the blast, he heard a laugh, and discovered he was not as alone as he had thought.

He whirled around to catch a fleeting glimpse of the intruder: a tall, robed figure with nothing but darkness and teeth where the face should have been. The terrifying being disappeared in a twirl, then reappeared right above Link’s head. In its claws was a wand that spat electricity, and it aimed it right at him.

Link ducked under the thing’s feet and took off at a run, but he was not fast enough to avoid the balls of energy the monster had thrown at him. He fell to his knees, screaming in mortal agony, as the electricity commandeered his nervous system.

When he finally regained control of his muscles, he wasted no time in ripping an ice arrow from his quiver and jamming it into the creature’s nearby foot. The thing fell from the air as a solid ice sculpture, and Link knocked the wand from its hand before stomping on its face with his boot. He continued to do that until the creature vanished in a puff of smoke and sparks.

Link fell to the ground, panting for breath. His muscles spasmed uncontrollably in the aftermath of the adrenaline and literal shock. He did not like getting electrocuted, no sir, and he certainly was not eager to find out what the shock would have felt like if he hadn’t had Sidon’s elixir in his system.

He kicked the fallen Lightning Rod off the side of the cliff and continued on.

He entered the Domain via the single bridge that crossed the main waterfall. Stairs and pillars rose up around him on every side like a swirling fantasy of ice and stone.

Sidon ran to meet him at the end of the bridge. His bright smile was full of joy. “I was waiting for you, Link! I wanted to welcome you personally to my home—the pride of my people, Zora’s Domain! Now I shall introduce you to the king.”

They passed through a gateway guarded by two Zora foot soldiers, and they saluted Sidon as he walked by. Then, they saw Link following him.

One of the soldiers gasped. “Master Link!”


	26. Mipha's Touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed your comment, thevicariousgamer! Please continue to let me know what you enjoy, what your favorite moments from BOTW. You'll be seeing some of mine, most of which are the little details that struck me as I explored aimlessly between quests.

Prince Sidon rounded on the guardsman. “Rivan, you know this young one?”

The soldier shrank back into his position, eyes cast down in shame—but they darted to Link’s face furtively. “We used to swim together when I was but a child—”

“Father, that’s impossible!” the other Zora soldier hissed. “Hylians age so much faster than us! Shouldn’t he be dead, then?”

Rivan blinked at the ground, ashamedly, and Link felt his heart pang for the man. “It’s me,” he said. “It is. It’s complicated—but I’ve come back to regain control of the Divine Beasts.”

“Yes!” Rivan exclaimed joyously. “Oh, Master Link!”

Sidon clasped Rivan’s shoulders and shook him. “ You can’t mean THE Link? THAT Champion?!” The two Zora jumped for joy while Rivan’s daughter and Link looked at each other awkwardly. Suddenly, Sidon swung around to face them and his tail nearly knocked her feet out from under her. He did not notice. “Link, we must go see my father immediately! Come!”

He set off at a run for the throne room, and Link apologized briefly to Rivan before following.

“HMMM?!”

The deep bellow nearly knocked Link over as he entered. Sidon had just announced their guest and named him, and the King’s eyes were wide with shock.

“Link!” he cried. “You have returned! I had heard a terrible rumor that you had fallen in combat, but it appears you managed to survive.”

The young man stared up at the whale-man with wide eyes. “Uh,” he said eloquently.

The King was much larger than the Windblight Ganon he had just faced, and a wicked trident lay against the side of his throne behind him. He had quickly surmised that the Zora lived long, long lives; it was obvious that everyone in the room, barring Sidon, had known him one hundred years ago. It was hard enough to interact with Impa and Purah—and he did not know the consequences of disappointing the Zora King.

Finally, Link found his voice. “Your Highness… I’m afraid that the magic that kept me alive for this long has destroyed my memories.”

The King leaned forward a little. “Do not tell me you have forgotten me… And surely you must remember my precious daughter, Mipha, yes?”

Link ran a hand across his face so that he could not see the heartbreak he was sure would appear on the King’s face. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t remember anyone.”

“I think you should tell us of your journey,” Sidon urged. “Perhaps that will be illuminating, Father.”

The King nodded his assent, so Link told them of his awakening and of the old man who had guided him and given him his mission. He recounted what Impa had told him about the tragedy that had befallen the Champions and himself one hundred years ago. And he mentioned that he was slowly finding bits and pieces of memory scattered across the Kingdom, but it felt like visions into someone else’s life. He spoke finally of his battle within Vah Medoh.

“Whaaat?!” King Dorephan exclaimed. “Princess Zelda herself instructed you to board the Divine Beast and appease it from within? So then… Princess Zelda is still alive.”

“Yes,” Link said. “And I believe each of the Champions may still be trapped in the Beasts by Ganon’s blights.” Then, he repeated what he had told Teba at the Flight Range:

“Although I do not remember them—I cannot bear to let their suffering, or Hyrule’s suffering, continue. That is why I am here.”

“King Dorephan! My liege!” A Zora courtier, bowed with age, stepped out from the shadows. “Please do not speak so! To ask a Hylian for help… Why, the very thought of it curls my fins!”

The King frowned, and a low rumble filled the chamber. “Muzu, I expected more of you. How can you still protest?”

“Muzu!” Sidon exclaimed. “It is rude to speak that way to your king and his guest. Link is here because I invited him! He is the key to saving the Domain!”

The King inclined his head toward Muzu. “This is bigger than all of us, my friend. Zora and Hylians alike must put aside our differences and band together—or else we will surely succumb to the floodwaters once more!”

Muzu shook his fists. “A hundred years ago, they abused the power of an ancient civilization and turned Hyrule into what it is today!” In the wake of his furious tones, silence fell in the chamber. Emboldened, Muzu continued. “And that is not the least of it! It is their fault that Lady Mipha was lost to us…”

No one dared to breathe.

A great, trumpeting cry pierced the silence, and every head turned. The King shook himself and seemed resolved to ignore Mizu going forward. “According to your Princess Zelda’s research, the orbs located on Ruta’s shoulders are mechanisms that can control the water it generates. However, they require electricity to work. These orbs are clearly out of control now because there is no electricity to stop them.”

“Unfortunately,” Sidon chimed in, “as an aquatic race, we Zora are terribly vulnerable to the power of electricity. That is why I went to search for a Hylian!” He grinned at Link, who did not feel like smiling at all.

“Link, I doubt not that you have endured a great many trials,” the King said gently, “and I am greatly heartened to hear that you have come to our aid. Zora’s Domain is in danger of vanishing because of Divine Beast Vah Ruta, but if we can regain control of it… Vah Ruta may yet prove useful in sealing Calamity Ganon once and for all!”

Sidon took an excited step forward. “Come, Link! Let us appease Ruta together!”

“Prince Sidon, you know I’m in. But…” Link looked up at the King. “I think your father has more to say.”

When Dorephan looked down at him, Link felt something stirring in his own chest—like a memory. He could not recall the details, but he could not shake the feeling that perhaps his own father had looked down at him with similar tenderness and appreciation.

“The size of your heart has always defied your stature,” the King murmured. “It is what brought you and Mipha so close… We have met many times. My mind is overflowing with nostalgia. Young hero, when we are done here, please look upon the beauty of Zora’s Domain, and the statue below. Perhaps gazing upon Mipha’s immortalized form will jog your memory.”

Link bowed silently.

“In the meantime, I would like to give you something. I have kept it safe all these years… Sidon, please bring the Zora armor from the treasury.”

“KING DOREPHAN!!” Mizue shrieked. Sidon ran as quickly as he could out of the throne room. “Surely you do not really intend to give this outsider the Zora armor! Countless generations of Zora princesses have gifted that armor to the one they have sworn to marry! Princess Mipha made this with her own hands, it is a disgrace to grant it to the Hylian who led her to her doom!” He spat in Link’s direction. “Besides, Mipha had no such relationship with him. So why should _he_ receive such an honor?”

Dorephan stared down at his courtier disapprovingly, but Mizu’s words were as painful as the Windblight’s homing laser strikes. Mizu snarled at him and stalked out.

“I am deeply sorry, Link,” Dorephan said. “You must understand… He was in charge of educating my dear daughter, Mipha. Naturally, she means a lot to him… just as she means the world to us. I hope you can forgive his rudeness.”

“Of course.” Link placed his hand over his heart. “One hundred years of loss has left its mark on all of Hyrule.”

“Well-spoken.”

Sidon returned with a parcel that Link assumed contained the Zora armor they had spoken of. He handed it reverently to Link. “Please do not let Muzu’s words concern you. I will work this out with him shortly.”

“With the Zora armor, you will be able to scale waterfalls as we do, and swim with the agility of a fish,” the King said as his son left the room once more. “I hope it aids you in your confrontation with Vah Ruta.”

 

Link sat outside the throne room for a long time, staring down at the Zora armor. He had realized, now, what Mipha had been about to tell Zelda at the foot of Mount Lanayru. She had loved him, and that love fueled her healing powers. She had made him this armor—armor that was intended for the one she was sworn to marry.

Link found that that the Zora armor had indeed been made for him. It fit his proportions perfectly—although there was certainly room for him to regain some muscle. Though the armor hugged him tightly, Link felt emptier wearing it and more alone than he ever had.

Rather than bringing him closer to the fallen Zora Champion, the distance between them was drawn in stark relief. He did not know if he had loved Mipha, the way that he knew that he had loved Zelda. He had followed Zelda through hell and back, always three paces behind, because he could not survive long without a heart—and she held his, whether she knew it or not.

He still did not know how he felt _now_ , but that made it all the worse.

Finally, Link descended the stairs and entered the square below. Though he felt that he had been gone for quite a while, the two Zora were still arguing.

“Muzu… Please lisen…”

“I don’t care what you say!” Muzu’s head turned away from Link the moment he saw him coming. “Hmph, I have no desire to speak with you.”

“Listen well, Muzu,” Sidon said, and the tone of his voice drew both Link’s and Muzu’s gazes to him immediately. “He who stands here, the one called Link… is the one whom my sister, Mipha, had feelings for. I was only a child then, so I did not know that that is why the Hylian was her closest companion. But it is so. I grew up hearing my father tell stories, some of which were about my sister’s undying love for a Hylian named Link—”

Muzu chortled. “You cannot fool me with such a fanciful lie. Not this Zora!”

Link regarded the elderly Zora with the deepest pity. He certainly felt undeserving of Mipha’s affections, now. “I am sorry that my arrival has opened such a deep wound in all of your hearts,” he said. “I can’t speak for my actions in the past. I can only ask that my actions now speak for my character. I have come to free Princess Mipha’s spirit from Ganon’s prison in Vah Ruta, and to save your people—and Hyrule—from a terrible fate.”

“It is the truth, Muzu,” Sidon added. “Look at the armor he wears. It was not crafted for a Zora. Now you know who her heart belonged to and who she made this special armor for. Your obstinacy now cannot be for her honor or for her memory, because you know where her heart lay. Set aside this bigotry! Even before the Great Calamity, it is why Mipha never told you.”

The elderly Zora seemed as though he might weep for shame and anger and loss, and Link did not enjoy watching the young Sidon berate Muzu. “Sidon,” he said gently. “Muzu has a right to be angry that someone he loved was taken from him. But Muzu, the Champions were appointed for the safety and honor of their people, and they gave their lives for the same. Though I do not remember her, I can’t imagine Mipha wouldn’t risk everything again to save her people from this flood if she had the chance.”

Muzu stared at him through glistening, serpentine eyes. Link was not sure what emotion he saw within them, but ultimately, it did not matter. “I suppose it is our only option,” Muzu finally admitted. “Now… That tall mountain over yonder, it is called Ploymus Mountain, and there you will also find Shatterback Point. A terrifying creature has made its home up there. This awful beast shoots volley after volley of shock arrows. Even a single one could be fatal to a Zora.”

“Aha!” Sidon cried. “You must mean that Lynel! He is a man-beast, that one!” He looked sidelong at Link. “That beast does indeed wield shock arrows. That is certainly one way to collect them quickly. He is vicious, to be sure, but I am certain Link will rise to the challenge.”

“The fastest way to Ploymus Mountain is to ascend the waterfall east of the Domain,” Muzu said.

“You should go first thing in the morning,” Sidon suggested. “I will wait for your successful return at East Reservoir Lake, right by the Divine Beast. Gather at least twenty shock arrows, and come join me when you’re ready.”

 

Link returned to the statue of the Princess once night fell. It was illuminated with the same glowing stones that surrounded the Domain, and Mipha looked strange and ghostly in their green light. He had never seen her like that, so cold, when even in the coldest waters she had brought warmth to all those around her.

_“I was thinking…this reminds me of the time we first met.”_

 

Link leaned his crossed arms against the base of the statue and pressed his face against them. He could already sense that he needed to brace himself.

 

_They were so high up—higher than even Ploymus Mountain—but the wind here was gentle, and they had escaped the smell of low tide below them at the shore. The evening sun was warm, but so was her magic: though her cool, scaly fingers held up his injured arm, nothing but heat radiated from the wound as it stitched together under her touch._

_Link’s eyes were not on his arm, though. His eyes were on the Princess._

_“You were just a reckless child… always getting yourself hurt at every turn.” Mipha, likewise, had her eyes on him. A soft smile graced her delicate face. “Every time, I would heal you, just as I’m doing right now.”_

_He smiled slightly at her handiwork, then back up at her. His smile faded instantly at the distant look in her eye. He had thought this was a light moment, remembering their time training together as warriors when they were young—in light of their task at hand now. But then again, that wasn’t a light thing, was it?_

_“I thought it was funny how, being a Hylian, you looked grown-up so much faster than I did,” she said, removing her hand from his arm. He examined the fresh skin, the lack of a scar. “I was… I was always willing to heal your wounds, when we were children. Is it ironic that a task that I always enjoyed has become a duty I fear, today?”_

_Her gaze dropped from his and looked out at Hyrule Castle in the distance. “If this Calamity Ganon does, in fact, return, what can we really do? We just don’t seem to know much about what we’ll be up against.”_

_He considered reaching for her and taking her taloned hand in his, or clasping her arm as she had just had, but she had continued speaking without pause._

_“Whatever happens… know this: that no matter how difficult this battle might get… If you—if anyone ever tires to do you harm… then I will heal you. No matter when, or how bad the wound.” She looked up at him intently, that smile on her face barely hiding the steel in her voice. “I hope you know that I will always protect you.”_

_He could feel the charge of her solemn vow, the magic that resonated behind those words. Her clasped hands tightened in her lap._

_“Once this whole thing is over, maybe things can go back to how things used to be when we were young. You know… perhaps we could spend some time together.”_

_The smile had left her face entirely, though there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Link knew then that Mipha felt the same dread for the future that he did. It was more than Zelda’s difficult journey to find her powers. It was more than the tension between the Champions, the dire situation they’d be in if Ganon came back right now. This was a foreboding that came from the very thing that gave both of them their powers… from beyond._


	27. Under the Blood Moon.

Link sold most of the armor and supplies he had found on his trek through Zora’s Domain, and his pack had returned to its feather-light state. When he reached inside, now, he was able to quickly locate whatever he needed. Satisfied, Link finally activated Ne’ez Yohma’s Shrine in the center of the Domain and added yet another Spirit Orb—and both a Zora spear and a silver longsword—to his reduced collection of wicked melee weapons.

Link had to do quite a bit of searching to find the Goddess Statue in Zora’s Domain. No one seemed to know where it lay hidden. Finally, he ran into a sleepy, elderly Zora priest who recalled its location.

 _Dear One,_ Hylia said as he approached. _You have conquered four shrines and claimed their Spirit Orbs…and you are weary from your journey. I can amplify your being. What do you require?_

“Strength.” Link sighed. And stealth, and courage, and a time machine.

_I will give you strength._

Link felt her vanish from his presence like a candle blown out by a sudden wind, and the emptiness in his chest settled in deeper. He’d wanted to ask her something—wanted to speak to her with the same familiarity that he spoke with… Well, he had no one else.

Forlorn, Link lay a Silent Princess at the foot of the Goddess Statue and left for Ploymus Mountain. Prince Sidon had suggested he wait ‘til morning, but Link’s plan required the utmost stealth.

As he left the Domain, a Zora called out to him. “Hey, you’re Link, right?” Link turned expectantly. “Are you going to Ploymus Mountain in search of shock arrows?”

“Small town,” Link said under his breath. “Everyone knows, huh?”

“It is easy to overhear the Prince,” the Zora said wryly. “He does not speak quietly. Anyway, Mr. Link, I have a request that is…somewhat related. I _really_ need a picture of a Lynel. There’s a fool in the domain who goads people into jumping off of Shatterback Point on Ploymus Mountain. It’s an incredibly dangerous jump, and this guy pressures people into jumping off by questioning their courage. If this keeps up, someone is surely going to wind up horribly injured.”

“So you want to show them the more _certain_ horrible fate of being murdered by a Lynel, to scare them off?” Link guessed. “Alright. I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you, I’m glad that was settled quickly.”

Link left the Domain and went east to the waterfall Muzu had told him about. He wasn’t certain how he was supposed to swim up it merely by wearing chest armor, but he dove in to the pool at the waterfall’s feet without hesitation. He’d figure it out.

The water was quite chilly on his exposed skin and his lower half, but it was nowhere near as cold as Mount Lanayru. His eyes stung from the spray tossed up by the crashing water, and he bumped into fish as he swum blindly to the cliff face beneath the waterfall.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Link had a memory of salmon jumping through whitewater. He could not dwell on it, for risk of drowning amid the onslaught, but he grasped on to it tightly. He pushed himself off the rock wall, tried to forget which direction was up and which was down, and dove forward again.

Link was aware that he was gathering speed, that the water cooperated with every movement and pushed him along seemingly of its own accord. Finally, it pushed him out of the water at the top of the falls, and he was thrown high into the air. He fought to catch his breath and regain control of his limbs in time to wrest open his paraglider.

He began his trek up the mountain just as the full moon rose above the horizon. He could hardly see it through the rain clouds, but it was a rosy pink, at first. Link had been momentarily confused by its sunrise-like glow. As he rounded a bend and stood directly under its light, he was shocked to find that everywhere the moon shone seemed to burn; even the ground beneath him smoldered. Ruby red embers and ash flew up in swirls as he moved across the terrain, but when he tried to catch them in his hands, no soot was left behind.

_Link… Link…_

“Zelda.” Link Looked out across Hyrule, but he could not see the Castle through Vah Ruta’s rainstorm. “I hear you.”

 _Be on your guard!_ Zelda’s voice was weak, as if she were speaking through several layers of cloth. _Ganon’s power grows… It rises to its peak under the hour of a Blood Moon. By its glow, the aimless spirits of monsters that were slain in the name of the light return to flesh._

 _Fuck,_ Link thought. Not only would he have to deal with Stalfos at night, but now he’d have to deal with resurrected enemies?

_Link…please be careful._

And like that, she was swept away from him.

Link sloshed onward, the ache in his chest worse than ever. He longed for some form of companionship that didn’t involve doing something heroic. He even missed Prayer and Lanayru. But most of all—he missed _her_. He didn’t know how it was possible, but it was there and he could not ignore it.

As he drew closer to the peak of Ploymus Mountain, Link found a tree to take shelter under and changed into his Sheikah armor. He was thankful for the rain to disguise his footsteps, and he smiled grimly, confident in his plan.

He could hear the snorts of the Lynel even before he came to the plain it had made its home. He immediately ducked behind a large boulder and peered out through his soaking wet bangs to take stock of the situation. The Lynel stood out for its red coat, illuminated brilliantly under the light of the Blood Moon. Its bright green eyes leered around through the murk, and Link ducked back for a moment to make sure that he wasn’t spotted. Better now than after it kills me, he thought, and pulled out his Slate.

He was glad that he could tilt the screen to take a photo from the safety of his hiding place without being spotted by the Lynel. He was quite pleased with the photo he took: the beast had looked down pensively at its large claymore-like weapon and its muscles rippled formidably in the eerie red light. He saved it and returned to his more pressing task.

The shock arrows glowed brilliant yellow in the night, and Link had seen hundreds of them littered around the plain—along with several large boulders and trees behind which he could hide. Link skirted the plain and plucked shock arrows from trees and the ground near the cliffs, always with an eye on the Lynel. The beast seemed to have a circuit paced out, and when it reached its furthest point, Link dashed across a clearing, through a large pool of rainwater, and behind another boulder. He pressed himself against the rock so closely he might as well have become part of it; his breath frosted the air as he listened for any sound that he had been detected.

It seemed that he had not.

He continued his slow journey until he had reached Shatterback Point itself. The rain was beginning to lighten up, He had gathered eighteen shock arrows by then, but he had seen two more below buried in the trunk of a pine tree.

Link descended the mountain swiftly to retrieve them. Just as his fist closed around their shafts, he realized his potentially fatal mistake.

_The rain had stopped._

He reached for the Zora spear on his back and scanned the plain for the Lynel. He could not see it.

The shock arrow caught him by surprise, and that made it hurt all the more. It drove straight down from above and into his shoulder and cast its net of electricity around him. If Link screamed, he did not know. Whether it was the pain or the electricity itself, he blacked out—and the next thing he knew, he was gasping for breath on the ground. His body convulsed sporadically as intense burning and piercing sensations ran through it, all stemming from the shock arrow still lodged in his shoulder.

The next thing he knew, the Lynel was over him. It took only a second for the creature’s wicked claws to rip through his thin armor, his skin, muscle, knick the bone. The waves and waves of pain that followed tore Link from consciousness and kicked him awake again repeatedly:

 

 _He lay crumpled on the arena floor, its dust and sand turned to mud by his blood and that of the Usurper. He still clutched Fi in his hand; his fingers had been crushed around her hilt. But she had fallen silent to him, as had the world. The pain throbbed and ebbed, but the true agony in him lay in his heart—for the first time, he had failed_ her _._

_The Master Sword jutted from his own chest, but Fi screamed on the ground beside him; this was but a corrupted shadow of her blade that impaled the Hero. Blood bubbled past his lips from pierced lungs, and he choked on it with wet, sucking breaths. Above him hung his black reflection, his own face but ashen gray, his own eyes but red with Ganon’s hatred._

_He drowned, weighed down by his heavy shield and the Sword of Evil’s Bane on his back. Five arrows protruded from his throat and chest._

_He was a wolf, jugular torn out by another._

_He was a young Hero, the fated threat defeated; he fell to assassins in the night, protecting her slumber._

_He was overwhelmed by a thousand warriors; he was thrown into hot lava; he waited for her to wake from a sacred sleep but she never did._

_He’d fallen into an enchanted obulette, forced to stare at a thousand copies of himself in every direction until he went mad from the responsibility, from the trap of his destiny._

_He lay prone in a muddy field, covered in burns, his gut opened by a sidelong blast from a beam of white fire. Hands desperately pulled him back together; hair shrouded his face._ Her _tears fell on him like the waters of the Great Flood, and his dying breaths were full of bitter resentment for this will-o’-the-wisp existence that forever would bring them together and tear them apart._

_His last words rattled desperately in his throat, and he’d died wondering if she’d ever heard them._

 

Link blinked slowly, and the world came into focus. A little glowing thing—a fairy—floated above him, its pink and blue dust still raining down over his chest. His intact, though scarred, chest.

He did not waste a second to _think_. He acted on autopilot, snatching the Sheikah Slate up and jamming the marker as quick as he could.

He tumbled out of the aura and landed on all fours in the Shrine of Resurrection. The Slate, his sword, his shield went spinning in different directions. He sucked in every breath greedily, afraid each would be his last. Again.

_Is this what you wanted?_

Link pounded his fist on the glowing stone beneath him, then knotted his fingers in his hair and dug his nails into his scalp. Tears fell for the Hero, for himself, the cursed. He sobbed freely into the dust; his breath caught in his newly-healed ribs, snot dripped from his nose, and though he could not keep his eyes open, he could not stem the flow of tears. It was unbecoming of the Hero of Legend to cry like this, and perhaps that was exactly why his body was racked with sobs.

_A thousand heroes won a thousand battles, but every one must come to death._

Link choked on his breath, just as he had choked on his own blood, choked around the shaft of an arrow, choked on the water of the deep ocean.

_What is another life forgotten, of a thousand?_

Link covered his face and sucked a breath in through his fingers, then held it as long as he could. It came bursting out of his chest immediately, but he tried again. The second burned more than the first, but soon he had enough strength to drag himself to the wall of the chamber and lean his back against it. Small sobs still tore from his chest as he stared up at the ceiling.

The Hero, the Sword, and the Goddess held themselves back from him because he had failed. Even though he had fulfilled his duty to her he had failed, and the implications of the curse rocked each of them in their own way. It wasn’t a punishment—he had already been punished—but he was going to have to prove his worth to them. And he was not ready, yet. Caught by surprise by a Lynel was a stupid way to waste his second chance at life.

The Hero hummed in the back of his mind but did not continue. Link did not need him to. A calm had settled over his shoulders, and he pressed the back of his arm across his swollen eyes. The memories of his past lives fluttered at the edge of his consciousness, just out of his grasp. Though their elusiveness frustrated him, that was not what weighed on his mind so heavily.

The boy he’d been one hundred years ago wasn’t the first one to love the Princess. In every life, he had.

And he’d forgotten them all.

 

He had had the sense to don his ruby headdress before attempting the climb, but Link’s face was still damp when he made his way up to Mount Hylia, and the bitter cold stung his cheeks. The young spring sun had just begun to rise on the horizon, but it was not enough to warm him.

He sat beside the cairn and added a collection of amber to the pile. “I hope I remember why amber,” he said. The wind whipped his words away on the wind, but what did it matter when speaking to spirits? “You call me Dear One. What did I call you?”

The wind whispered around him, but he could not understand its voice. It caressed his face, ran through his damp hair.

_Zelda._


	28. Zora Greaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get it? Greaves, grieves?

Link made as many hearty and energizing meals as he could. He felt drained from his near-death experience and the waterworks that had followed, and even though he ate two hearty rice balls, he still felt weak in the knees and a little lightheaded.

But he returned to the Zora’s Domain nonetheless.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the waters around Ne’ez Yohma’s Shrine and immediately set off. His footsteps shattered the mirror pool and disturbed the reflection of his swollen eyes and gaunt cheeks. He had changed into the Zora armor but kept his hair up in its Sheikah bun, knowing he was about to get quite wet. He felt a little out of place with his Hylian trousers, but it was what he had.

He ran into the Zora who had asked him for the photo of the Lynel, and he showed it to her wordlessly. She shrieked and shook and praised his artistry—and gave him a pair of Zora greaves that had been handed down in her family for generations from an ancient aunt who had married a Hylian warrior.

He was grateful for the greaves, and he donned them before heading to the Eastern Reservoir where he knew Sidon must be waiting.

He glided down to the Prince. Sidon was staring pensively up at Vah Ruta, whose trunk was lifted high to pump thousands of gallons of water into the sky. Link saw the somber expression and wondered how much Sidon had known his much-beloved sister.

Sidon whirled on Link when the Champion touched down; his arms were spread wide, as was his smile. Gone were all traces of sorrow. “Glad to see you’re ready to go, Link!” he cried enthusiastically. Then he got a better look at Link’s face. “What happened?”

Link tried to keep his face straight, but he was pretty sure that just made him look sadder and more tired. “Remembering is a tricky thing,” he said. “I remember bits and pieces every now and then. Instead of making me happy, it just reminds me of everything important that I forgot.”

Sidon’s smile fell. “I understand.” He glanced up at the mighty Divine Beast, at the trunk where Link and his sister had sat one hundred years ago. “My father is constantly disappointed that I do not remember her, as well.”

They stood silently for a moment. Then Sidon looked back at Link. “I see you completed your Zora armor. Did you get enough shock arrows?”

Link nodded. “I did,” he said, “but I’ll be going back to kill that son of a bitch after we’re done here.”

Sidon’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re so confident you’ll be able to stop Vah Ruta?”

His companion sighed. “Once we get past its defenses, I will board it and activate different parts of it from the inside. Then, I imagine, I will have to battle the evil creature that commandeered the Beast and killed your sister one hundred years ago.” He shrugged. “That will probably take all day, but getting inside… I’m a quick enough shot.”

Link tried out his best Sidon-smile, and he was pleased to find that the roguish charm was just as potent on the Prince himself as his was on others. The Prince’s eyes were starry and full of admiration. “You never cease to amaze, Link!” he said breathlessly. “Now then, have you practiced ascending waterfalls?” Link nodded. “Wonderful! Then you already know what you must do. But I must warn you, Vah Ruta can conjured weapons of ice and hurl them at us! They will pursue wherever we go.”

“Ah.” Link patted his Sheikah Slate. “I can deal with them.”

Sidon’s grin widened. “Then let us go and appease that Divine Beast as one!”

The Zora Prince backflipped gracefully into the water and reappeared a moment later. “Come and get on my back!”

Link had stowed his melee weapons and shield for now: all he had on his back was a Falcon bow, quiver ready with the twenty shock arrows he had scavenged. He had also kept his Slate on his hip. It would be trickier to hold on to Sidon if he had to bend upward to use Cryonis on an incoming projectile…

“Sorry if I squeeze you,” he told Sidon. “Never done this before.”

“Neither have I!” Sidon laughed wildly, and they were off.

They buzzed the Divine Beast’s side and retreated to draw its fire and create an opening. Sure enough, the moment they turned to swim away, three ice bocks appeared, lined up along Ruta’s side. Link readied Cryonis and destroyed them before they had a chance to lock in on him and the Prince.

“Amazing!” Sidon cried. “You ready?!”

They sped closer to Vah Ruta and Sidon bucked Link straight up into the nearest waterfall.  
Link ascended it just as he had the night before, and again he burst out of the water and high into the air. Before even thinking about grabbing his glider, he readied an arrow. In the slow procession of time that followed, he watched the shock arrow arc, hit dead-center on the glowing orb he had aimed for, and turn the orb bright green.

He fell back into the water, where Sidon waited. He barely grabbed on to the Prince in time to avoid the sudden barrage of spiked ice balls the Divine Beast threw at them next.

He nearly fumbled with the Slate, but he managed to catch the last spiked ball right as it reached Sidon’s tail. He heard the Prince’s manic laughter. “Close one!” he shouted above the foam, but there was nothing but exhilaration in his voice.

Link did not waste an arrow as he activated the remaining control orbs on Vah Ruta’s shoulders. It got harder and harder to keep track of how many ice things were thrown at them, but he took care of them all before they could hurt them.

When the last control orb was activated, Sidon pulled up to tread water and watched the Divine Beast’s mechanisms fail. Vah Ruta’s spout sputtered and fell, and a giant wave erupted from the crash of its giant trunk in the water. The wave buoyed them closer.

“Link, look!” Sidon cried. “I haven’t seen the sun in weeks!”

The sun had indeed appeared above them as the storm clouds began to dissipate. “Ruta is floating higher now!” Link observed breathlessly. “We need to go.”

“I’ll bring you closer!”

Sidon brought Link to the newly-exposed platform on Rutah’s side, where its Travel Gate waited for activation. Link grabbed on to the stonework and hauled himself out of the water.

“We’re counting on you, Hero,” Sidon said as Link made to stand. His words made Link turn back and crouch to clasp the Zora’s hand. “I know you do not need it, but…best of luck.”

“I’ll see you back in Zora’s Domain,” Link replied, and Ruta began to rise once more.

 

_You’re here!_

Link felt a terrible pang in his chest as he heard her voice again—and the joyful surprise that filled it.

_I must say…that I am so happy to see that this day has finally arrived. Now Ruta can be freed of Ganon’s control._

“And you can rest,” Link said softly.

Mipha did not reply, so Link finished activating the Travel Gate and entered the Divine Beast.

He quickly cleared the main chamber of Ganon’s Malice, eyes and all, and a small Guardian Scout, and he swept the room for discarded weapons and trapped treasures. He found an ancient spring, but no more.

Beside the door to the Guidance Stone, from which he soon received his map, Link saw a control terminal submerged in a pool of brackish water. He tried using Cryonis to raise it, but the ice blocks only formed on the surface of the water, not beneath. Then he tried Magnesis, and he saw the crank on the wall.

The mechanism released a great groan when it began to turn, and Link was surprised to encounter quite a deal of resistance as he tried to turn the crank with his rune. It took all his might and a ridiculously overblown gesture with the Slate to get it to turn one full rotation, but when he did, the water around the control terminal began to recede. He’d opened a grating beneath it, and the water drained quickly.

He ran down to activate it.

 _Good,_ Mipha said softly, but no more.

Link exited the chamber and ran up the ramp on Ruta’s side. He did not slow down as he entered the next chamber and found an armed Guardian Scout waiting. He made swift work of it with a single flurry rush and collected its sword and ancient parts.

Link used Cryonis to climb higher in the room and get a better vantage point for the task at hand. There was a control terminal inside the massive water wheel directly below him, and another in the giant cog that operated Vah Ruta. He did not understand why the control terminals were inside the cogs; perhaps they were meant to stop the gears should the Divine Beast short circuit and run out of control—but why were they _inside_ the gears themselves?

He would have to ask Zelda, someday.

Guilt struck him immediately for thinking about her when he was in Mipha’s Divine Beast, when Mipha was here, around him, when Mipha was _dead_ —because of him.

Link continued with the puzzle, using a combination of Cryonis and Stasis to activate the nearest terminal. He played with the position of Ruta’s trunk to spin the largest water wheel to gain access to both the third control terminal and the ancient core that had been pinned to the gear by a broken mechanism.

Outside he ran into another of Ganon’s Malicious Eyes but nothing else, so he continued on toward Vah Ruta’s trunk. A Guardian Scout stood in his way, armed with a spear, but he took care of it quickly. He was glad that all Guardians of this size were so equally skilled.

He had to lower Ruta’s trunk until it was nearly horizontal in order to climb onto it. The stone was slick with water and algae, and a Malicious Eye covered a platform he wanted to rest on. So he exterminated it.

He clambered on to the tip of Ruta’s trunk, nearly slipping as his grip shifted on the slick stone. It would be a precarious balancing act to lift the trunk and remain atop it, but he had his glider and his Zora Armor, so he was willing to try.

He did not slip or fall or even really stumble as the trunk slowly rose into the air and arched over the Divine Beast’s back. He simply hopped down to the little ledge below the trunk where the next terminal jutted from.

He glided down to the top of the Divine Beast and destroyed another eye. From this vantage point, he could see an opening in the Divine Beast’s forehead, and he jumped down to find himself surrounded by fire—and cursed Stalfos skulls. He rolled out of the way of the biting skulls and shot at their eye, but the skulls remained even after the Malice had been cleared. He used a spiked boko club to smash all of them in and bat them into the fire.

It was easy enough to see that Vah Ruta’s next terminal was in the center of the flames below him, and that he was supposed top open the ceiling and drench them. He was also beginning to understand the convoluted control terminal placements: Mipha would have been able to ride the waterfalls in to the various parts of the Divine Beast with ease, he imagined, while others would struggle to reach them—particularly if they were surrounded by ten-foot-high flames.

 _That was the last one,_ Mipha called as he activated the terminal. _Now start the main control unit and wrest Vah Ruta from Ganon’s grasp!_

“Mipha,” he said as he hopped from platform to platform on his way back to the first chamber. “The thing that—that killed you. What is it like?”

 _Do you believe that it is still here?_ She gasped. _I have not seen it in one hundred years that I’ve watched over Vah Ruta._

“I do,” he said grimly. “The thing that killed Revali hid in the main control unit of Vah Medoh. I had to fight it before the Divine Beast or his spirit could be free.”

 _You have freed Medoh!_ He could feel her hope thrumming around him, though still her spirit was held at a distance from him. _Link…He wields a spear long enough to fill a room. It can summon ice weapons the same as Vah Ruta—and it hovered over the water so that I could not reach it. It was faster than me! But I sensed a difference in you when you entered here… You have grown stronger than I could have ever imagined. I believe you are well prepared for this moment!_

Link thought so, too.

“Mipha—” He stood outside the chamber that held the main control unit. He was going to change out of the Zora armor she had crafted for him, in favor of the rugged Champion’s Tunic that Zelda had made for him, and it felt like a slight. But there would be precious little time afterward…if there _were_ an afterward…

“Your brother is a well-liked prince, full of charisma. Your father misses you dearly. Muzu and all of them hate me for drawing you into this mess.”

 _I…am not surprised._ The sorrow in her voice was palpable, and Link’s fingers fumbled over the straps of his vambraces. _I did precious little to encourage the Zoras’ friendship with the world outside the Domain, to make them understand why I would risk everything to fight against the Calamity. I thought it would be clear to them that an usurper, a demon, would be a threat to us all…_

“I think they do. They’re just grieving. They…they love you.”

Her gentle spirit surrounded him, but she did not reply immediately. He wanted to ask her, before it was too late--but he could not bring himself to speak.

_Link, free Vah Ruta, so that I may protect my people once more._

Link nodded. He was tired, and his limbs were still heavy with the pain of his morning, but he was ready. Armed with the Great Thunderblade, the remaining shock arrows, and a Guardian shield, Link awoke the Waterblight.


	29. Love and Grace.

Link was glad he’d kept his hair up. The moment the Waterblight had finished forming itself out of the aura, it flooded the floor of the chamber. Before it could get very deep, Link had readied a shock arrow and fired it point-blank into the creature’s eye.

The halo of electricity knocked the Waterblight from the air; its screams echoed deafeningly through the Divine Beast. Link ran through the water with grim determination and struck the thing as hard and as swiftly as he could with the Great Thunderblade.

This thing was fast, and several times, he reached the fallen monster just as it began to pick itself up and dematerialize. Once, he was slow to spin around and track its travel--but once was enough. The thing slashed at him with its far-reaching spear. The sweeping motion nearly took his head off, but he jumped just in time and it caught his shield instead. He could not let go of it fast enough, and he was dragged through the air and send flying into a wall.

He groaned as he tried to pick himself up, but when he tried to put his arm out to steady himself he nearly screamed in pain; it was certainly dislocated. He wasted no time throwing himself back against the wall to pop it back into place, but his right arm would still prove useless in the remaining fight—meaning his long-distance approach had come to an end.

“Focus!” he shouted at himself. His only chance of beating this thing now was to dodge every strike _perfectly_ , to maximize his openings in time and space.

The golem screamed at him in reply and brought its spear down in a lightning-quick arc from above. Link lunged enough to the side to avoid its blow and to trigger the flurry rush; he sped forward, and with one hand lifted the Great Thunderblade against the Waterblight.

He knew he was crippling it with so many electrical attacks; it was slower and slower to rise every time it fell. But with his arm so weakened, it was difficult for Link to take advantage of its stupors. After one last one-handed swing of the Great Thunderblade, Link was slow to retreat; the Waterblight sprang up and raised its spear high. Link narrowly avoided the sudden downward blow, but the shock wave it sent out threw him back several feet. He rolled through the water and lifted himself up onto his knees, groaning as he put weight on his injured shield arm.

Link looked up, through wet strands of hair, and saw the Waterblight hanging upside-down like a spider. Its arms were stretched to the ground as if pulling something heavy, and it didn't take Link long to realize what was about to happen. Cursing, he hurried to the nearest stone platform as the water began to rise; the Zora greaves truly were a blessing, and his steps were unhindered by the deepening water. He had just pulled himself onto the platform when he saw the giant shards of ice headed toward him.

Cryonis was easy to handle one-handed, and it seemed that the Waterblight could not move away to attack him while it concentrated on the movement of its projectiles. When the last of its icy weapons were destroyed, the Waterblight raised its spear arm to strike.

Link raised his shield, and against all odds, he parried the blow.

The creature was thrown back against the wall and hit the water with a crash. From his safe perch across the room, Link fired shock arrow after shock arrow at the thing, never letting it get up—until his quiver ran dry.

Its disgusting, oozing body was burnt to a crisp by the electricity, and the toxic smell of it filled the arena. Link gagged on it; his eyes stung. Yet he was ready when it swept its spear at him this time. He ducked well, and in the split second he had, he spun the Great Thunderblade and sent it flying across the room into the Waterblight’s chest.

Pinned to the wall by the massive, electrified blade, the Waterblight let out a blood-curdling scream that nearly rift the heavens. The echo was unbearable, and Link fell to his knees with his hands over his ears, screaming in kind. He did not see it explode, but he felt the sting of its guts hitting his exposed skin, just as the Windblight’s had on Medoh.

Link bent to wash the muck off his eyes. Tears and blood ran down his face, but the water was cool and soothed the burning poison of Ganon's Malice.

After a few moments, it seemed that perhaps Hylia would not speak to him, so he limped to the main control unit and raised his Sheikah Slate to activate it.

He leaned heavily against the console as blue aura flooded in to the Divine Beast. His knees were weak, for he knew who he was about to see.

 _Dear One_.

Hylia braced him up, and his weariness melted away. There was little joy in him, and she did not try to raise his spirits. It was enough for her to be there, to give him the strength and life that the Waterblight had stolen.

 _Go,_ she told him, _and take my love with you_.

He had no time to wonder at her words. The moment Hylia had left, the green glow of a spirit had filled the room. Link turned to face Lady Mipha, the Zora Champion.

“Hello, Link.”

His breath caught in his throat. The way she looked at him was so terribly sad, despite the grace of her soft smile.

“Because of your courage, my spirit is now free. And Ruta as well…” She began to walk slowly toward him, though her feet made no disturbance on the surface of the water below. There was a tremble in her voice as she spoke again. “Thank you…for I am now allowed by this freedom to be with you once again.”

She came to a stop before him, nearly a foot taller than he was, for he remained knee-deep in water. She covered her heart with both hands. “Since I am now a spirit,” she continued, and her voice was tight with emotion, “my healing power would be wasted on me. I have no need of it… Therefore, I would like you to have it.”

Neither of them shed a tear as she built up her magic for him. “Please accept my grace,” she whispered.

She placed her hands, and her blessing, on his chest. A feeling like cool water washed over him, and he looked up to meet her eyes. He could not speak, and he did not know what he’d say if he could. Instead, he reached up and clasped one of her hands in his.

“Yesterday, I was awash in a pool of tears. I had nearly given up hope and resigned myself to being trapped here, as a spirit, for all eternity. But now you’re here.” Her fingers wove through his briefly, and then she took a step back. “All this time, my hope was to see you once more. Now I have the honor of helping you fulfill your destiny.”

She pulled her hands from his as he began to disappear. “Save her, Link. Save your princess.”

 

Link looked up at Vah Ruta as it took aim at the Castle. Its powerful red tracking beam locked on to Ganon, pinpointed now by two Divine Beasts. Behind him, the sun began to rise.

He turned to find Sidon looking out from the balcony above him, and Link ascended the stairs to the throne room.

“Link! You did well to survive your trial!” King Dorephan boomed as he entered. Link was followed by a flock of Zora soldiers, courtiers, and priests, but they remained at the entrance to the room while he continued to the center. “The violent downpour, and the threat to Zora’s Domain, is little more than a bad dream, now. We are all truly grateful. What you did for us is more than we could have ever expected of you!”

The crowd clapped, and Dorephan turned his head to his son. Sidon stood still, staring out pensively at the clear sky beyond the throne room. “And you too, Sidon,” the King said, drawing his son’s gaze back to him. “As your father, I am proud of you for fighting the Divine Beast alongside Link. You have grown much recently. I know you will be a worthy heir when your time comes.”

Sidon bowed his head. “Father… I… Thank you.”

Muzu stepped forward, his bowed shoulders still weighed down with the weight of age, but lightened a little of their sorrow. “Link… I must sincerely apologize for my harsh treatment of you. That whole time, you were thinking of Hyrule’s and Lady Mipha’s well-being. All of the members of our council humbly fold our fins back in gratitude, along with the rest of our people. The older generation of Zora, myself included, have misunderstood Hylians after all. I humbly ask that you find it in your heart to forgive me. If not now, then perhaps one day.”

“Have no doubt, Muzu,” Link said. “I understood what motivated you, and I bear no grudge.”

“Now then! I implore you to collect the treasure inside this chest.” Dorephan nodded at a long, flat case carried into the room by two soldiers. “It was cherished by Mipha. A memento of sorts. I would like you to have it as a token of our friendship.”

 

Link sent himself back to Hateno to ask Bolson to make him a new weapon mount for the Lightscale Trident...and to sleep the day away. He firmly intended to keep his word to Sidon and destroy the Lynel on Mount Ploymus, but the mental and physical toll the last day had taken on him was too much to bear. He left the Lightscale Trident against the wall downstairs and barely made it to his bed before his fatigue overcame him.

He had enjoyed several weeks of mostly peaceful sleep; it was only a matter of time before the nightmares came back.

Link woke in a cold sweat more than once through the afternoon, his sheets and hair sticking to him and suffocating him. He dreamed about Vah Ruta’s dark, empty halls and the sound of its gears whirring, clanging, endlessly for one hundred years. He dreamed of dying again and again and again and again.

More gruesome ends flooded his dreams than what he had seen previously. He had once stepped off of the steeple of the Temple of Time--the very steeple Link had spoke to King Rhoam in just weeks ago. He had done the same from a turret of Hyrule Castle. He had laid down his arms beside  _her_ dead body and screamed for a red haired monster to take him, too.

These deaths were not heroic, and yet they were all his: the Hero.

He finally gave up on sleep and went into the back shed to bathe. He had been too tired to clean himself when he’d gotten back, but once he’d stepped into the wash tub he wished he’d done it sooner. He hadn’t realized how much blood and dirt and lake plants had dried to him until they were filled the tub to the brim.

Once mostly clean, he took stock of himself perhaps for the first time since he’d awakened. He knew he had been covered in scars, and he could imagine where some of them came from: the giant burn across his stomach from a Guardian laser that had done him in one hundred years ago stood out. Of course, there were the deep, pink grooves that the Lynel had dug into Link’s chest, which had been healed by the fairy’s magic but remained fresh and tender.

His right shoulder was purple and black, but it did not hurt as it had before, thank the Goddess.

As his thoughts strayed to the Goddess, Link’s stomach did an impressive somersault. He had realized, yesterday, that he craved her company and her approval more than anything. Her presence and pride were the only things that lifted his spirits when he faced this monumental quest before him. But her tone had been different, with him, since he’d freed Vah Medoh. She was proud of his achievements, but this was his duty as her appointed knight; she had commanded him atop Mount Lanayru, stood beside him and so formally presented him to the Golden Goddess Nayru. Then, when more than strength he had needed comfort, she had enhanced his spirit and vanished immediately; he had felt more like her servant then than ever before.

And then he had nearly died, and he had remembered, and something—something had changed.

_Go, and take my love with you._

The Hero had been in love with his Goddess since time immemorial. He had done so many terrible things, had given up his own happiness, livelihood, life, countless times just to keep her safe, to keep her happy. What remained hidden from Link was whether or not she had ever thought of him as more than a counterpart in duty—or even a servant.

_Go, and take my love with you._

Link began to dress in his Sheikah village clothing, for they were clean and forgiving, and he would need to go back to Kakariko to repair his shredded stealth armor. But his mind was elsewhere.

 

With his Sheikah armor sent in for repairs and the afternoon sun low on the horizon, Link returned to Ploymus Mountain. He wore his Champion’s Tunic and mail and held his Vicious Sickle tight in his left hand; having chugged an electro elixir just a moment before, he felt ready, if not confident, about the battle ahead.

Link came over the top of the hill and marched into the Lynel’s plain. Its sensitive ears heard his footsteps in the mud and it rounded on him, bending down so that its forelimbs tore deep into the earth. There was no moment to prepare: with a roar, the Lynel charged.

 

When he came down the mountain with the Lynel’s sword, shield, bow, and horns, the Zora guards stopped and stared at him. He made his way through the winding paths of the Domain and searched for Sidon.

The Prince’s face lit up when he saw Link approach, and by the time Link had reached Sidon’s side, the Zora’s excitement was palpable. “You did it!” he cried. “You defeated the Lynel?!”

Link grinned at the Zora Prince. It was difficult to resist the energy he exuded. “Piece of cake,” he lied happily. He truly enjoyed seeing Sidon’s eyes go wide. A few pointed teeth peeked out from behind his parted lips.

“Link, I must thank you! You are a treasure of a Hylian, taking time out of your journey to come to our rain- and monster-ridden home!” Sidon clutched Link’s shoulders. “Have I mentioned how incredible you are? And how thankful I am? Because you are! And I am!”

Link laughed. “Thank you, Sidon.”

“I would like to consider you my most treasured friend,” Sidon said suddenly. “We must have some form of greeting that shows onlookers that we are friends!”

“Like a handshake?” Link asked.

“Like a handshake!” Sidon cried. They both reached forward with their left hands, and they looked up at one another in surprise. “You, too, are left-handed?” Link nodded. “Alright! I knew we were connected in some way!”

Instead of a handshake, they settled on locking their left forearms together so that their vambraces clicked in a pleasing way. They practiced it several times, to Sidon’s delight, but the sky was going dark.

“Prince Sidon, I am glad to have met you,” Link said, “and I’m certain that I will be returning to Zora’s Domain sooner than later. But—”

“Yes, of course.” Sidon straightened up, his princely mask back in place. “You must find your legendary sword and save your princess. I only ask that once you do, please have her visit us. I look forward to meeting my Hylian counterpart.”


	30. A Fallen Star.

Link returned to Kakariko to pick up his mended Sheikah armor, but Claree still needed a few more hours. As Link left the armor shop, he caught sight of Cado, who seemed nearly beside himself with grief.

“Cado!” Link called as he jogged over. “What’s wrong?”

“Sir… Sir Link…” Cado turned to look at him with desperate eyes. “My cuccos… My precious cuccos… They haven’t come home!” Cado clutched his head as he shrieked the last words, and he crumpled in on himself. “Now that my wife wants nothing to do with me, my cuccos are my only emotional support…”

Link _did not_ understand the appeal of the clucking shitmonsters—other creatures laid eggs, and other birds were certainly more tasty. Nevertheless, Cado’s clearly desperate state worried him. “I’ll go find them,” Link offered.

“Are you serious?!” Cado looked up at him with glistening eyes. “I have ten cuccos total! As you can see, there are three here who have come home as expected…”

“They can’t have gotten far,” Link said. “I’ll find them.”

He left Cado quickly, and as he passed Impa’s mansion, he saw Dorian give him a very amused glance. Link rolled his eyes—and then he nearly ran over one of Dorian’s little girls.

“Hey,” he said as he steadied her with one hand. It was the younger one, but he could not for the life of him remember her name. “Do you think you can help me with something? I’m on a very important quest.”

She popped her thumb in her mouth. “Sure,” she said around it. “Whabizit?”

“I’m looking for lost cuccos,” he said. “They’re playing hide-and-seek with me. Do you like that game?” The little one nodded excitedly. “Have you ever played hide-and-seek with a cucco?”

She shook her head; she positively bounced with anticipation. “Let’s play!” she cried.

“If you find a cucco, shout about it and I’ll come make sure it’s ‘out’ of the game.” Link high-fived the little girl and watched her run off. He set off in the other direction, for the village was not big enough that he wouldn’t hear her shouts from the opposite end.

He found a few cuccos pecking away at young shoots of grass in various fields across the village, and he threw them, squawking, back into Cado’s pen. Dorian’s little daughter was also successful in finding some fairly hidden birds: one on a high roof, one hidden in a hollow tree stump, and one all the way up the hill by Ta’loh Naeg’s Shrine.

Soon, he and his companion were standing with Cado, panting and proud of their work.  
“My cuccos… My sweet little baby cuccos… They’re all back!” Cado sobbed.

“It wasn’t _that_ hard,” Cotta muttered. She scuffed her foot against the ground and shot Link a wicked grin when he glanced in her direction.

He split the fifty rupees with her—it was only fair—and she gave him a small pebble of amber as a thank you for involving her in her favorite game, ever.

Cotta invited him to go find her sister, Koko, for dinner. The two girls ‘taught’ him several recipes: energizing glazed apples, meat-stuffed pumpkin, hasty veggie cream soup, and hot buttered apples. He wrote them down in King Rhoam’s diary of recipes for, though he was certain he would eventually have come across the delectable combinations, it would be much faster to refer to a recipe. And he wanted to remember these, because Koko was so proud of them.

Finally, Link returned to the Enchanted armor shop and picked up his Sheikah set. Claree was particularly difficult, asking him prying questions like, _“What kind of girl does a Hero like, anyway?”_ He had a hard time coming up with one-hundred-and-one polite and evasive things to say; just as he was about to give up and take off at a run, another customer entered the shop and Claree pounced on him instead.

Link fled the scene and went to Impa.

Neither Impa nor Paya were downstairs, so Link took the opportunity to change back into his Champion’s Tunic and mail. He had only a few things to ask Impa, and then he needed to make significant progress on his journey before the Stalfos came out for the night.

As he shed his skin-tight Sheikah day wear, he heard a small squeak from behind him. He turned to find Paya frozen on the staircase, her mouth agape.

“M-master Link! I did not hear you enter!”

Link raised his eyebrows at that. He knew of the Sheikah’s sensitive ears and stealth training.

She covered her face to hide her reddening cheeks. “Your—y-your scars! They’re so…so terrible!” When Paya peeked through her fingers and saw that he was still shirtless, she yelped again.

“Granddaughter!” Impa called from above. “What are you squawking about?”

Paya spluttered something incomprehensible behind her hands.

“You know I can’t understand you when you babble!”

Impa hobbled down the stairs and caught a glimpse of Link. He raised one eyebrow at the situation, and she began to chortle. Then she guffawed. Then Impa was doubled over, about to topple head-first down the stairs, from the force of her laughter.

Link let Paya deal with it and finished dressing. By then, Paya had helped Impa on to her seat of pillows and _bolted_ out of the room.

“I have freed Vah Ruta, and the spirit of her pilot,” Link said as he approached the Sheikah elder. Impa’s eyes widened a little. “I need to know, Impa. Was anyone aware of Mipha’s affection toward me?”

Impa hid behind the brim of her hat. “Link, I don’t know that I am the best one to speak about the Zora Champion. Perhaps her brother—”

“He doesn’t remember her.” Link folded himself onto the ground in front of Impa and sat cross-legged, his vambraces resting on his thighs. “I know now that she intended to marry me. She made traditional Zora armor for a Hylian, and it fits perfectly. And I know that I _knew_ she was in love with me. What I don’t know is whether anything had happened about it—and whether anyone else knew about it.”

Impa sighed. “I only know what Princess Zelda confided in me, Link. She knew that you and Mipha were very close friends from childhood, and she suspected Mipha may have looked at you with love from time to time. But it was not a known fact to her.”

Link felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair. “And I never spoke of it?”

“Not that Princess Zelda ever told me,” Impa admitted.

He exhaled very, very slowly. He wished he could return to the Divine Beast and repeat his exchange with the Zora Champion—apologize for forgetting her, apologize for not returning her affections. But perhaps it was better this way.

Link rested his head in his hands. “Impa,” he said through his fingers. “Did you know that I—”

“Of course.” Impa’s voice was sharp and quick like a Sheikah dagger in the dark. “Link, we all knew. If you are about to ask why I did not tell you, then you are a fool. You did not remember me, your aunt and your teacher. You did not remember your sword, as much a part of you as your arm is. You already had resolved to defeat the Calamity and free the princess regardless—why would I cause you more pain by telling you that you forgot the love of your life?”

Link looked up at her quickly, shock written across his features. He could not have hidden it if he tried. He did not need to be told why Impa had kept that information secret. It was hidden in the photographs, and it was superfluous to the mission at hand. He just wanted to know one more thing.

“Did she know?”

Impa’s eyes shone with tears. “No,” she said in a voice husky with emotion.

They were quiet for a long moment. Finally, Link drew himself back to his feet. He pulled the Sheikah Slate from its holster and opened the map. “In every life I have loved her,” he said, in a whisper. “I remembered, because I remembered every time I have died. And it’s always been for her.”

He gave Impa a parting look and caught sight of the tears running in silent tracks down her wrinkled cheeks. “It wouldn’t be the first time I died for lack of her love,” he said, and he left.

 

He traveled to the Lanayru Tower once more and found that Gruve had somehow managed to overcome his fear of heights and leave. From there, he glided northwest. The wetlands below the tower were filled with lizalfos and he was not eager to challenge them tonight, but just his luck—the moment he landed, a Yiga assassin jumped out from the bushes.

“Begone, enemy of my master!” the assassin snarled.

Link didn’t let it get much further than that. He lobbed his Zora spear straight into the Yiga’s gut, and not a moment later he was left alone on the bank of the river once again.

He scooped up the rupees and the assassin’s Vicious Sickle, and kicked an offending bunch of bananas into the water. Link did not enjoy murder. But he hated an easy fight.

 _How pathetic,_ he thought unhappily.

With Cryonis’s aid, he crossed the river and reached Sheh Rata’s Shrine.

He spent hours trying to figure out the Speed of Light trial, and once he’d beaten it he felt gloriously fulfilled. The giant boomerang he found certainly helped. He took several photos of the water-filling apparatus, the lasers, and of course the monk before finally accepting his spirit orb.

He left the shrine and camped on the Travel Gate. He did not want to sleep, so he flipped through the photos he’d taken of the eighteen monks and their unique shrines. His mind wandered—would it be possible to take the princess into the shrines with him? He could just imagine the light that would appear in her eyes when she’d finally enter the trials she struggled to unlock so long ago.

That is, if she hadn’t changed much in the one hundred years that had passed since then.

He wondered if he could expect her to be the same as he remembered—because he certainly wasn’t.

Link set aside the Slate; his heart was in his throat. What would he even say to her, when he saw her again? Would he remember her fully by then? Would he remember _himself_?

Link leaned back against his bedroll and began to undo the braids that held his bangs out of his face. He felt bad for the way he had taken his leave of Impa, but what he had said was _true_. He distinctly recalled how hard the ground below the Temple of Time’s bell tower was—for, several hundred years ago, the Hero had chosen to step off of the tower and end his misery of a life without the love of his Goddess. It had not been the first time. Nor had it been the last.

Link ran his hands through his hair and tried to think of lighter fare. Did he have the same face, in his past lives? It wouldn’t make sense, but most of his existence didn’t make sense, either.

As he lay back and looked up at the stars, Link wondered, not for the last time, about the land in the sky and the Goddess who had put it there. He wondered if he would ever remember that first life, the cursed one that started it all.

 

It was early morning when he saw the light streak across the sky. It landed to the north, and he followed the river to go find it. His eyes never left the horizon as he plunged through the shallows and trekked through the mud along the eastern bank of the river.

Finally, behind the Woodland Stable and above the Mirro Shaz Shrine, Link found the fallen star.

Its divine light shone like a beacon in the murk of the forest, and Link was not the only one drawn to its beauty: several bokoblins, including a white one the likes of which he had never seen, congregated around the base of the tree in which the star had gotten caught. Link hid himself in the shrubs and rocks that lined the cliffside and prepared a bomb arrow just for them.

The surprise attack sent them scattering for their weapons, and Link rushed in to snatch up the star fragment in the ensuing chaos. Then, without a shred of guilt, Link ran.

He found some degree of safe harbor in the Mirro Shaz Shrine, though a pesky octorok tried its best to hit him in the entryway anyway. As he descended into the shrine, Link examined the star fragment with the Sheikah Slate. Its divine light had dimmed the moment he touched it, but he could still feel its strange, otherworldly magic between his hands. It was too light for its size, if it were a stone; it felt slightly warm like it had been in the sun for a while; if he listened closely, he could _hear_ it sing.

He stowed it in his pack and stepped into the Tempered Power Trial.

Link soon realized that it was aggravating to think of it as a test or a trial, so he tried to think of it as a game. He was glad that he had picked up so many sledgehammers from his stays at various stables, because he nearly went through them all trying to play the game of the shrine. But finally, he beat both the main trial and the secret, additional trial behind the monk, and claimed a giant ancient core in addition to his Spirit Orb. Exhausted but incredibly satisfied, Link left the Shrine and nearly got his head taken off by that pesky octorok.

He took care of it with perhaps too much gusto—he had thoughtlessly grabbed a bomb arrow again, and the poor beast exploded into charred smithereens. A roasted bass landed at his feet.

“Huh.” He shook off the dirt and went to the stable to see if he could sell it.

“Linky!”

Beedle was coming up the road toward the stable, as fresh-faced and energetic as anyone could be that early in the morning.

“Such a pleasure to see you again!” the merchant cried. They were a little breathless, for they had closed the gap between them with a few bounding leaps and nearly crashed right into Link.

“Good to see you too, Beedle,” Link replied. “I have some things to sell. A fish, a star fragment—”

Beedle’s eyes grew wide. “You found a fallen star?! Linky, don’t sell it to me! I mean, please do, it’ll fetch me a lot of rupees. But I hear you can use it to make amazing armor!”

“I see,” Link said. “Thank you, Beedle. I do have other things to sell.”

They made their exchanges: Link picked up a cold darner and a hearty lizard just for safety’s sake, and he sold a few of his topazes, luminous stones, and opals to fatten his coin purse. When their business was done, the stable was beginning to wake up.


	31. Flesh and Blood.

The first person Link saw was Pikango the artist. He was doing some sort of stretching exercise in front of his fresh easel, and Link did not feel like disturbing him at the moment. He went up to the stable owner and asked if any of his horses were nearby.

“Why, yes! It seems that Prayer came by last night on her way to Dueling Peaks. Would you like me to bring her out here?”

Link said, “Yes, please,” and then went inside the stable to see if anything interesting was posted on the wall.

Indeed, Traysi had posted something very interesting on the wall—in big, black letters:

 

_**THE MYSTERY OF THE KOROK MASK.** _

_Traysi here! Awake or asleep, my quest for juicy rumors never rests! EVER. Doesn't everyone gossip in their sleep?_

_Today I've got a hot rumor fresh from the mill that is...wait for it...an EXCLUSIVE! And that special topic is... the mysterious Korok Mask!_

_They say if you pour enough love into an object, a spirit will inhabit it. Something that creepy's just gotta be true! And apparently, this Korok Mask really is inhabited by a spirit!_

_If you wear it, it supposedly shakes and makes adorable weird noises every now and then._

_Maybe it does that to tell you when friends are nearby and you can't see them? Who knows!_

_Some say the treasure chest containing this mask is hidden in a tree hollow in a forest that makes people lose their way. Hmm, sounds like a tough place to find something!_

_Luckily, word has it there's a convenient trick for finding your way..._

_Traysi's Recommendation: [5 stars]_

 

Link wondered what kind of leaf the Korok mask must look like—there were so many infinite, adorable variations, and the thought of wearing one of his own amused him.

Prayer was ready, so Link left the stable and began to pack her saddlebags for easy access to some meals, elixirs, and supplies. As he packed, he noticed another traveler doing the same nearby. Two things about the traveler drew Link’s attention: first, the young man was a Sheikah, and secondly, he was laden with some beautiful and strange armor.

The young man looked up at him as he felt Link’s stare. He had dyed his white hair straw-yellow, and it fell across one of his eyes attractively. “Can I help you?”

“I’m just wondering where you found those shields.” Link nodded to what was clearly a Guardian shield hanging, in its inactive state, from the traveler’s saddle.

“My father makes them,” the young man replied. “He sells them in northern Akkala, and I sell them on my travels.”

Link’s eyebrows rose. “Your father makes Guardian weapons?”

“I’m surprised you know what they are.” The two young men appraised each other for a moment. Finally, the traveler extended his hand to Link. “My name is Granté. My father’s name is Robbie.”

“Robbie as in Ancient Tech Lab Robbie?” Link hazarded to guess. “Purah in Hateno told me I should stop by there one day.”

Granté did not let go of Link’s hand. He stared intently at Link’s face. “You haven’t told me your name, but I don’t think you need to,” he said finally. “I grew up hearing stories about you, Hero.”

Link finally regained ownership of his hand. “Please don’t call me that,” Link said darkly, and Granté chuckled. “Can I ask you where you’re headed now, Granté?”

The young man nodded eastward. “Home,” he said. “You needn’t ask—if you want to join me, I’d be glad to have your company, Link.”

 

The morning passed quickly. Link enjoyed talking to Granté about scholarly topics like ancient armor-making—he finally learned how the Climber’s Bandanna was able to enhance his climbing ability—and the different kinds of ‘fos and ‘bins out there. Granté had truly traveled far and wide and had plenty of stories to tell of sneaking and slaying and stealing that entertained Link to no end.

He was quickly learning that he’d need to return to the Hebra Mountains to search for more Shrines and rare treasures, that there might be a hidden temple under the Rowan Plain, and that the ancient Sheikah had developed technology that would call your horse to you anywhere in Hyrule, no matter how far.

Granté, likewise, was fascinated by Link’s journey. He offered up several possible forests that the Master Sword could have been hidden in, and together they surmised that the most likely location was deep within the Great Hyrule Forest. He examined the Sheikah Slate thoroughly, careful not to touch any travel markers, and marveled at its craftsmanship.

“Hey, it’s starting to vibrate,” he said suddenly and offered the Slate back to Link. “I don’t know what that means.”

“There’s a shrine nearby,” Link explained. “I’ve never tried taking anyone else in to a shrine, but I’m curious to try.”

Granté grinned. “I’m in.”

It took quite a bit of searching to find the Tah Muhl Shrine, but when they did the young men tied off their horses and ran to it. Neither of them could stop grinning as Link pressed the Slate to the pedestal and activated the shrine.

There was just enough room for the two of them to stand on the elevator, if they squeezed their backs against one another. Link couldn’t see Granté’s face that way, but he heard his companion’s shock and awe well enough.

_To you who sets foot in this shrine… I am Tah Muhl. In the name of the Goddess Hylia, I offer this trial._

Link guessed from the way Granté gaped and looked around that he had heard the monk, too. _Interesting_ , Link thought.

“It’s called Passing the Flame,” he observed after consulting his Slate again. “I think it’s a little disturbing that the monks are encouraging arson.”

Granté blinked. “What do you mean?”

Link gestured around at the dried leaves that covered most of the walls around them. “Usually, in shrines, the walls are bare. Here, they’re covered in kindling.”

He led Granté around the corner to where several torches waited for then. Link drew an arrow from his quiver and took aim through the fire. “Watch,” he said.

The flame caught the whole wall on fire where it landed. While it still burned, Link notched another arrow, lit it in the fire, and set the next wall alight. A path was revealed for them, as well as several alcoves along the other walls. One had a chest in it, which held a large raw ruby.

“Amazing,” Granté said when Link tossed the gemstone down to him.

Link went ahead to see if any Guardians waited for them, but the next room seemed safe. He helped Granté into the chamber and let the young scholar examine the monk while Link completed the rest of the trial. He found a Cobble Crusher for his efforts as well as an opal.

He joined Granté in front of Tah Muhl and told him to stand back. They were silent as Tah Muhl granted Link a Spirit Orb and disappeared into the aura; when Link turned back to his companion, he found the young man’s face pale.

“You really are the Hero,” he said.

 

They continued on the Ternio Trail until they reached a fork in the road. Link stared up at the Tower ahead of them; it had sprouted from the top of a tall, ruined fortress, and even at this distance he could see that it swarmed with flying Guardians.

He was about to ask Granté about the ruins when both of their horses began to panic. Link nearly fell from Prayer, and Granté was tossed out of the saddle by his own steed.

“You can’t avoid us forever!” a voice cried. Link drew Prayer around and found that they were now in the presence of not one, but two Yiga clansmen.

“Why do you follow him, Granté?” the Yiga archer snarled. “Because of him, our people fell from favor—they exiled us from our homes and diluted our magic!”

Granté drew himself up painstakingly. The fall from his horse had winded him. “Just because you had no love for the Goddess doesn’t mean you had to join the Demon’s side,” he wheezed. “I’m glad all of you morons left. Talk about diluting our gene pool.”

Link was taken aback by the exchange. The Yiga had hardly looked at him, and after hearing Granté’s last acidic remark, their weapons pointed squarely at him—not Link.

Which made it terribly easy to take them both by surprise.

Granté turned out to be a brutal and unforgiving swordsman who favored Guardian weapons over any others. Link quickly realized that he didn’t have to protect the Sheikah boy, which was a relief considering that Link had taken on the archer—and the archer was turning out to be a handful. Every shot they took fired two arrows at once, and Link’s Lynel shield soon resembled a pincushion.

Link had been loathe to attempt it, but he charged at the archer. At the last moment, Link raised his shield in a slashing motion.

The duplex bow went flying, as did the Yiga’s mask. Blood poured down the clansman’s face, but there was no mistaking the fact that it was a Sheikah woman beneath the mask. She shrieked and vanished, as did her companion.

Granté and Link looked at each other silently as they both fought to catch their breath. A thousand questions ran through Link’s head, but he was hesitant to voice any of them.

“You’ve met Paya, right?” Granté said suddenly.

Link nodded.

The young Sheikah nodded at the bow Link’s opponent had dropped. “That was her childhood playmate. Culli.”

“Granté… Is that why Kakariko is so empty?”

The two young men began to clean their weapons and pick up the rupees and fruits the Yiga had dropped. Granté told him quietly about the secret shame of his people.

Many powerful Sheikah mages had fallen when Hyrule and the Hero fell. The ones who remained were old and frail, and soon there remained but one Sheikah with any magical ability worth speaking of: Kohga. The elder at the time trusted Kohga with the training of an entire generation of Sheikah children. With so many young ones turning their adoring eyes to him for guidance, Kohga went mad with power. He brainwashed them into forsaking the traditions of the Sheikah; he promised them greater power than any Sheikah had ever dreamed—but the had to swear allegiance to the Demon King.

Early one morning, those loyal to Kohga murdered their parents and left Kakariko forever.  
“Paya’s mother was of that generation,” Granté said finally, “as was mine. They were of the few who did not follow Kohga. But there are many Yiga who are our age, and they have made it their goal to convert the remaining Sheikah children to their ways, like Culli…or to exterminate us.”

Granté’s eyes were on the citadel above them; for a moment, Link thought that perhaps the young man were hiding his gaze out of sorrow. Then Granté looked back at Link, and he saw no such emotion in the man’s eyes.

“You need to get up to that Tower, right?” Granté prodded. “Let’s go, then. I can show you how to deal with those flying assholes.”

 

As they approached the citadel, Link and Granté began to see more and more decaying Guardians strewn along the path. They dismounted and made sure to ferret out what scraps they could find from their metal carcasses. “You’ll thank me later,” Granté said.

At that moment, they heard a savage battle cry, followed by a furious moblin roar. Link set off at a run.

The moblin had pinned a man to the edge of the crumbling bridge at the front of the citadel, and the traveler was desperately trying to hold his last remaining ground. He saw Link under the moblin’s arm and seemed to gain a second wind, stabbing at the moblin’s knee with gusto.

Link drew a spear and snuck up behind the moblin, who still had not noticed his presence. With a tight, two-handed grip on the staff, Link sprang into action and drove the bladed edge up and through the moblin’s back.

It fell backward onto him and nearly crushed him as it died, but the grateful traveler hurried to pull him out of the way.

“Th-thanks,” the man said between gulps of air. “That monster was more than I bargained for.”

“Seemed like you were in a tough spot,” Link agreed.

“Yes, I certainly was. By the way, I’m Nell,” said Nell.

“I’m Link,” said Link, “and this is my friend Granté.”

The three exchanged greetings and turned to look up at the castle. “I came out this way to search for this citadel. Can’t believe I made it so close, only to have to turn back now.”

Granté nodded at Nell’s chest, where the ancient symbol of Hylia stood out in red on white. “You have family ties to this place, I imagine?”

“I found out my own kin died here, so I came to at least pray at the spot where they fell.” The three young men turned to the citadel; Guardians and the glow of the Tower stood out in the ominous clouds that surrounded it. “Long ago, at the peak of Hyrule’s power, this fortress was said to be unassailable. But during the Great Calamity, Hyrule Castle fell and the army had no royalty to lead them. With no other choice, they fell back to the citadel to make their last stand. Sadly, a concentrated assault from the out-of-control Guardians spelled the end for this fortress, too.”

“In a real sense,” Granté added, “the kingdom of Hyrule met its doom here.”

Link put a hand on Nell’s shoulder. “We’re planning on clearing the citadel,” he said. “Soon, I hope it will be safe to pray there. But for now, you should find safety.”

“There’s a stable nearby,” Nell agreed. “Be safe, friends. I’ve never heard of anyone escaping a Guardian’s sights.”

Granté and Link murmured in response and watched him go.

 

The travelers had to follow a ridge around the side of the citadel, for without the bridge—or a second paraglider—they couldn’t attack the citadel head-on. Fire keese populated these parts, but they were nothing but an annoyance compared to the looming Guardian Skywatchers.

Granté had donned his own Soldier’s armor and equipped a long Guardian shield that stood nearly as tall as he was when activated. He had also handed Link two Ancient arrows and instructed him to save them until Granté told him to fire.

“I’m going to do something incredibly stupid,” Granté said suddenly, and he ran for the citadel.

Link charged after him, but he froze in horror when the Skywatcher locked on to Granté. Images of Granté flying through the air, on fire, with laser holes cut into his chest, filled Link’s mind; the memory of charred flesh made his stomach turn.

Link’s new friend raised his shield in anticipation.

The Skywatcher fired.

Link screamed.

And the Skywatcher exploded.

In the wake of the blast, Granté’s excited laughter filled the air. He ran over to the blast site and scavenged several precious parts from the destroyed Guardian.

Link hurried to join him. “You _parried_ a Guardian beam?”

Granté nodded as he picked up an ancient core. “Guardians are weak to ancient tech,” he said, “and to any hit to their eye. How do you combine the two? You parry their own laser. It’s easier with a Guardian shield, but if you’re good enough, a pot lid will do.” He glanced at Link, then stood. “A good strategy with any Guardian is to render them immobile. Propellers, legs… Come on, it’s your turn.”

They took out several bokos and split the spoils equally—and then they came across the second Skywatcher.

Granté encouraged Link to step into its line of sight. “A single arrow,” Granté had promised.

Link was nothing but a deft shot, but even he was skeptical.

He raised his bow as his heart raced in his chest; a red light pinned him down, as the Skywatcher came closer. Its laser began to charge.

Link pulled his bowstring taught, and the Ancient arrow activated. Its bright blue tip glowed wickedly in the gloom of the oncoming storm.

The impact was like nothing Link had ever seen before. The arrow seemed to pull aura from the very air to disable the Skywatcher, which was now falling directly toward him. Granté yanked the back of Link’s Champion Tunic, and the two young men rolled down a flight of stairs to avoid the crush of Guardian parts.

“That was amazing!” Link exclaimed. Granté slapped his shoulder excitedly, a wide grin splitting across his face.

“They’re expensive,” he warned Link, “and addictive. You don’t want to see what happens when you use them on flesh and blood.”

Link could only imagine.


	32. A Test of Strength.

“You seem less than celebratory,” Granté noted as they descended the Akkala Tower and met up with their horses below.

Link didn’t know how to say that, though they were laden with the guts of several Guardians he had personally dispatched, all he could think of was the feeling of his insides spilling out of his gut and the sight of a Guardian standing over him, its laser charged and ready to fire.

Link didn’t know how to say that, so he said nothing.

Granté had recommended that they head further east, passing over South Lake Akkala and through Kaepora Pass, to avoid a confrontation with the _three_ Guardian Stalkers that called the Torin Wetland their home; as thrilling as it was to defeat a Guardian in one strike, it was even better to conserve rupees.

 

They camped that night at the Dah Hesho Shrine. As soon as Link saw that it was a Test of Strength, he sent Granté back out to wait for him. When he returned, it was with an Ancient Battle Axe and another Giant Ancient Core.

Granté was nodding off by their fire, and when he saw Link approach he fell back on his bedroll and closed his eyes. “Someone’s doing something loud on that island north of us,” he said. “Don’t know how either of us are gonna sleep with that racket.”

“I’m not sleeping,” Link said. “It’s okay.”

“What are you _talking_ about?”

Link took a deep breath. “Granté, go to sleep.” His tone left no room for argument. Granté rolled over to stare at him from across the fire, but he did not question Link further.

The sounds of construction stopped late that night, but the night did not fall silent; the sounds of a Great Fairy crying in the distance reached Link’s sensitive ears.

He made a note of it for morning. In the meantime, Link grappled with a sudden feeling of emptiness. He truly enjoyed Granté’s company; he laughed more in the young man’s presence than he had with anyone since he’d woken—perhaps since even before. He felt invigorated by their conversations…but he could not escape the thought of Zelda.

Link turned an Ancient arrow over in his hands and examined the amber that he knew, thanks to Granté, funneled invisible aura around them into solid energy to form the blade. Granté had not had an explanation for how or why amber could do such a thing, but he mentioned an ancient text and the Goddess.

 _Was it your favorite?_ Link hardly dared to let the thought cross his mind. He was almost afraid that she would hear. _Does it remind you of home? Are they formed from your tears? What kind of mystical explanation would warrant ancient pilgrims climbing a mountain to leave amber at your grave?_

For a moment, he fancied that he felt her presence touching the back of his mind. It was gone before he could call out to her.

 

It didn’t take much to convince Granté to take a detour to the Great Fairy. “As long as it’s not my rupees you’re using,” he said as they climbed down into the hidden oasis.

Link raised a finger to his lips. He had spotted several fairies dancing around the Great Fairy’s bulb, and he intended to catch them. Granté wasn’t interested, and he watched idly as Link crept around to snatch the little things out of the air.

Link then approached the bulb.

“Hey, Great Fairy, your sisters Kaysa and Cotera sent me.”

“Boy… Sweet boy… I am nearly powerless now, so I beg your help. I need rupees to become whole again.”

Link looked over his shoulder at Granté. “She’s _much_ more polite than Kaysa,” he noted.

“You _bet_ I am!” the Great Fairy chuckled from within her flower bulb. “All I need is ten thousand rupees—”

Link choked. “What?”

“I can help you do great things, boy,” the Great Fairy said desperately. “I am the Great Fairy Mija, and unlike my little sisters, I can enhance your armor the full amount!”

“Well, that sounds worth it.” Granté surprised Link by pulling out several gold and silver rupees from his pouch without hesitation. “I’m going to get in on this, too.”

Link was about to warn him against it, but Mija had reached out and snatched the rupees from Granté without another moment’s pause.

Several indecent sounds emanated from the flower bulb, and the boys could hardly look at each other; the tips of their ears were bright red. Link ducked for cover just as Mija exploded from her prison. Granté was far less quick, and he bore the brunt of the explosion of sparkles and tepid water.

Mija bent low to examine them. “You know, I was expecting someone…bigger, but there are two of you, so I suppose you’ll do.”

Link swallowed hard. “What—”

“I think you’ll agree, a good deed deserves a good reward! What do you say? Do you have armor that needs enhancing?”

The two young men began rummaging around in their packs. Granté could have sat there all day, it seemed, though eventually he ran out of monster parts. Link gave up two Lynel hooves and a gross, rotting handful of Lynel guts to upgrade his Soldier’s armor set.

Finally, the young men stood to leave. “Alright, but one last thing before you go…”

Before either man could protest, Mija snatched Granté up in her arms and smothered him against her breast. She twirled him like a ragdoll—and then she pressed a giant, wet kiss to his whole head.

Link and Granté fled the moment she set him back down; Link wasn’t going to wait for his turn.

“Ta-taaaa!” Mija called after them, feelings unharmed.

The two young men collapsed by their horses, gasping for breath, but as the ridiculousness of the situation caught up to them they began to laugh. Mija had gotten fairy dust and rouge all over Granté’s face, and they could hardly wipe it off for they were laughing too hard to stand.

When they finally collected themselves, they set off to investigate the sounds of construction that they’d heard the night before.

“I know what this is,” Link said suddenly and urged Prayer into a trot. “Hudson! Hudson!”

The burly man turned from his task and shouldered his giant pickaxe. “We meet again, Link!”

Granté pulled up his horse beside them, and Link introduced the Bolson Construction contractor to the arms dealer. “I bought a house from his boss,” Link explained.

 _“You bought a house?”_ Granté’s mouth hung open once again. “Link, you’re never home!”

“Ah, but it’s marvelous when he is, isn’t it?” Hudson remarked. “We got him a soft bed and everything.”

Link gave Granté a sheepish smile, then turned back to the laborer. “How’s business?”

“I’ve decided to build a village from scratch. I think I’ll call it… Tarrey Town.”

“Good idea!” Link said, just to see Granté’s eyes bug out. “Who will Tarrey Town be for?”

“Oh, anyone.” Hudson shrugged. “Right now there just isn’t enough…anything, really. People… Money… Stuff.”

“I’ll help out,” Link said. “What do you need?”

Granté gave him a sharp look; Hudson seemed to agree with the boy’s skepticism. “What do you mean? There’s nothing in it for you, Link.”

Link looked around at the area Hudson had cleared thus far. “I’ve seen a lot of evidence of destruction, in my journey,” he said. “Everyone left in Hyrule is surviving. But I’ve seen life spring up in the ruins—and what better way to foster that, than to build a new village? To carve out a home in the wild?”

Hudson seemed like he were about to shed a tear. Granté still seemed to think Link was crazy.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Hudson said tenderly. “Well, if we’re going to invite people to make this place a home, we’ll need homes for them. I’m about ten bundles of wood short—”

“Say no more.” Link opened his pack and began to rummage around for the string he used to keep his wood in order. “Good wood for building?” he offered.

Hudson had begun to cry in earnest. “Oh, thank you, Link. I will begin constructing these houses immediately!”

Link hoped the man would stop crying soon. “We’re going to head on our way, but is there anything else you’ll need? Maybe I’ll find it on my travels.”

Hudson nodded and gestured at the boulder he had been trying to crack when the boys showed up. “I want to move these forsaken boulders out of the way so we can develop the land underneath. It’d really help me out if you could find someone with enough brute physical strength to bust them apart. A Goron would be my first choice.”

“Good luck with that,” Granté muttered. “Gonna have to climb Death Mountain for that one.”

“Oh, and one last wrinkle…” Hudson seemed a little embarrassed by what he needed to say, but with an encouraging smile from Link, he got it out: “In accordance with the official Bolson Construction policy, I can only hire someone whose name ends in ‘son.’”

Granté nearly fell off his horse again. Link himself had to bite his tongue to contain his laughter. “If I stumble across anyone who fits the bill, I will send them along to Tarrey Town,” Link promised. He reached down from the saddle to clasp Hudson’s hand in his own, then turned to follow Granté back to the road.

“I could never do this Hero-ing business,” Granté remarked. “I don’t know if Goron names even can end in ‘son.’ How much time are you going to waste that you could have spent earning rupees?”

Link scoffed. “Very little of what I do is about earning rupees,” he said.

_“Exactly.”_

 

Together, Granté and Link completed the Katosa Aug Shrine. Link let Granté get the first ball, but he handled the second, more difficult one hidden behind the monk. He fetched a Great Frostblade for his troubles while Granté examined the floating platforms and mechanisms of the Shrine.

When they left the Shrine, Granté insisted that they try one of Khini’s Akkala buns at the East Akkala Stable nearby. “One of the only things in this world worth the rupees,” Granté had claimed, and Link agreed. He hadn’t needed to sleep the night before, but going two nights in a row without even a nap had begun to tax him; the Akkala bun fixed all of his fatigue in just one bite.

Thus fed and rested, the young men turned their sights on the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab.

“Dad planted a Guardian to keep out the rabble,” Granté said as they approached. “When I say, you’ll have to start galloping—and don’t stop until you’ve reached the door.”

“What do you mean, _planted_ a Guardian?” Link demanded.

“Now!”

Link’s mind went blank as he dug his heels in to Prayer’s sides. This wasn’t the kind of moment where one stops and questions orders; when legless Guardian Stalker has its red tracker beam locked on you, you _run_.

Granté leaped off his horse’s back and rounded on Link, exhilaration clear on his face. It quickly disappeared when he got a good look at his friend.

“Sorry about that,” Granté said weakly. “Also, sorry about my dad, like, in general.”

Link tried to find his voice, but he could not. He bent over Prayer’s neck and ran his hands over her quivering shoulders as he tried to collect himself.

Finally, Granté reached up and put a hand on Link’s knee. “Are you okay?”

Link pressed his eyes shut tight, took a deep breath, and nodded.

He dismounted and followed Granté up the stairs to the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab. The first thing Link saw as he went inside was a strange black forge lit up with blue Sheikah light.

“Hi Cherry,” Granté said, walking right up to it. The machine buzzed and sparked a little, and Granté scowled. “Dad! You let the furnace go again? Why didn’t you send for me?”

There was a loud _thump_ from above them in the tower that housed the lab, followed by a loud rustle of paper. Suddenly, a little imp of a Sheikah appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Granté, what are you doing home? Come to rob me of all my ancient arrows again?” Wordlessly, Granté opened his arms and gestured to Link. Robbie’s mechanical goggles focused in on their guest. “Hmmm…” Robbie skittered closer, now at the foot of the stairs. “Hm?!” Then Robbie was right up in Link’s face, adjusting his goggles to see him better. “HMMM?”

Link took a step back.

“Are you…the one called…Link?”

Granté rolled his eyes behind his father.

“Yes,” Link said.

“Hm? Well that’s too bad. If you were the legendary Link, there would be something important I’d need to tell you. But how can I determine with full certainty whether or not you are the true hero? Yes, how indeed!” Robbie pretended to think; Link knew it was all a show, because Granté was covering his face in shame in the background. “If you can show me the wounds your body suffered one hundred years ago, that should prove you are truly Link!”

Granté turned bright red. “I’m going to tell Mom,” he said in an agonized tone, and ran up the stairs.

“Are you telling me to strip?” Link narrowed his eyes at the little Sheikah scientist.

“Yes! Exactly! That is another way of putting it!”

“And you absolutely won’t believe me any other way.”

“Nope! Nuh-uh!”

Link sighed and began to undress. His skin crawled under the intense scrutiny, and he felt the tips of his ears go red as he heard Granté and his mother conversing upstairs in angry whispers.

“Yes! Yes, the number of scars on your body—just as I remember!” Robbie cried. “Well, except for that one.”

“Lynel,” Link said shortly. “Can I put my clothes back on now?”

“I acknowledge you as the real Link.” Robbie waved his hands. “Go on.” The Champion began to dress once more. “I really am impressed that you made it all the way out to this rather remote location. Did you, perchance, meet Purah and borrow her power?”

Link snorted. “I met a _child_ ,” he muttered as he pulled his boots on.

Robbie rubbed his chin. “Purah? A child? She really has a kid?! Or do you mean that Purah aged backward…and she is now a child?!”

“Purah got younger.”

“So she’s crazy as ever!” Robbie threw back his head and laughed maniacally. “Well, at least she helped you out, right?” He laughed again, then suddenly became very, very serious. “Now is the time to join forces with us Sheikah, yes, to put an end to the Calamity once and for all! Seeing as you’ve met my son, Granté, I imagine you’ve already got a taste of my ancient soldier gear. I’d like to provide you with more, but Cherry…erm, the ancient oven…is out of sorts at the moment.” He patted the machine beside him with affection marred by sorrow. “Like Granté said, I let the ancient furnace run out of blue flame. If you can fetch some, then we can get to work!”

Granté popped his head down from above. “Link, the way is full of white and blue bokos and moblins,” he warned. “My mother wants to speak to me, but I can go with you afterward.”

Link shook his head. “I can do it.”

Granté smiled apologetically and gave him a thumbs-up before returning to his conversation with his mother.


	33. North by Night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now would be a _great_ time to R &R :)

Link had seen something very curious from the blue flame furnace. “What’s that big square island about?” he asked as he returned to the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab late in the afternoon.

“That’s the Lomei Labyrinth Island,” Granté said. He and his mother had come downstairs and sat on the cot set up between the bookcases there. “Don’t know what it’s about—but it’s swarming with Guardians.”

“Which means it must be ten thousand years old!” his mother proclaimed. “Truly it’s quite fascinating.”

“You know what’s _truly_ fascinating?” Robbie said sourly. They all turned to look at him beside the ancient oven, his hands on his hips. “My darling Cherry is back to normal! Such is the power of love…”

“…The furnace is lit,” Link said.

Robbie stared at him. In the silence, Granté’s mother stood and walked upstairs once more. The look on her face was stormy, but Robbie hardly seemed to notice. He continued to stare at Link. “Well…thank you. Yes, quite. Now then, please take this as a gift of my gratitude!” Robbie pulled three ancient arrows out from under a book and handed them roughly to Link. “Anti-Calamity weapons!” he cried. “There’s more where that came from, too. If you’re looking to acquire some ancient soldier gear, give your ancient materials…and rupees…to Cherry.”

Link raised his eyebrows. “Rupees?”

“And lots of them!” Robbie threw his hands in the air. “I BEG OF YOU.”

Link sighed. “You warned me,” he said to Granté. His friend shrugged apologetically. “Want to help me pick stuff out, Granté?”

He had plenty of rupees, screws, gears, and springs, but he was a little low on ancient cores. Granté threw in a few of his own to help Link obtain an Ancient cuirass and greaves. “The bladesaw is pretty great,” Granté admitted, “but I think you’re better served by the arrows.”

“I won’t be facing the Calamity without the sword of evil’s bane, anyway,” Link said. “Hopefully, that’s all I’ll need.”

Link got as many arrows as he could. He was nearly broke by the end, but he had enough other things to sell that it would be worth it.

Granté stepped outside into the evening, where Link unloaded some of his miscellaneous items into Prayer’s saddlebags to make room in his pack for armor.

“Link, I want to tell you before you leave…” Granté ran a hand nervously through his hair and pushed his bangs away from his eyes. “A lot of things, actually.”

Link stepped away from Prayer. He wondered what it could possibly be—another confession of love, perhaps? His stomach dropped at the thought.

“There’s a rumor that the ancient Spring of Power, where the Goddess Din was worshiped, is nearby,” Granté began. “I know how to get in to the Castle and avoid most of the Guardians. And I want to give you something.”

He led Link around to the back of the Ancient Tech Lab, where several crates sat amongst the dead shells of Guardian Stalkers. Granté took a crowbar and began to pry one open. “I think…this may have belonged to you.”

The equestrian armor was identical to that worn by the statue on Safula Hill. Though clearly quite old, Granté had restored it with painstaking care: the chest plate bore Hylia’s sacred symbol with the Triforce at the center, and it shone radiantly in the morning light. The saddle pad was made of new, forest green fabric, but Link guessed that Granté had tried to match it to whatever the original had been, and he had hand-embroidered it with the same emblem on Link’s Champion’s Tunic: the winged Master Sword.

“Where did you find this?” Link whispered.

Granté cleared his throat. “Faron is filled with traces of the ancient Heroes. Somewhere in the jungle lies the Spring of Courage. I’ve never found the Spring, but I found this there.”

Link nodded. “Thank you.”

“I actually know two ways to get into the Castle, “ Granté said. “If you cross Helmhead Bridge to the east of the Castle and stand with the Castle to your left, climb up the hill and you’ll see the tunnel on the side of the Castle. The luminous stones near the entrance sparkle at night. But be careful—there’s a talus in there. The second entrance is in the docks. There’s an island west of the Castle, and I’ve left a raft tied near the dock. Sail to the north side and you’ll find the docks there. You can get into the Castle that way.”

Link swallowed. “Granté, you’ve been amazing. I’m glad that I met you.”

“It’s the arrows,” Granté said flippantly. They grinned at each other for just a moment. Granté held out his hand for Link’s. “I look forward to seeing that legendary sword someday, Link.”

 

When Link rode Prayer past the East Akkala Stable this time, everyone’s heads turned to watch. She radiated power in the equestrian armor, as did he; he had donned his hood, enhanced Hylian tunic, and his new Ancient greaves for the journey ahead. The hood sat low on his forehead and cast his face in shadow.

He headed southwest from the stable; his intention was to take Shadow Pass to the South Akkala Stable, then follow the road until it connected back to the Ternio Trail. But when he reached the stable and completed the Ze Kasho Shrine, his Slate wouldn’t stop buzzing.

He ran into Beedle again and bought as many fireproof lizards as he could. The jewels he traded in hardly made up for the damage done by Robbie’s jacked up prices, but they helped.

He didn’t know how far he’d wander in search of the Shrines, so he boarded Prayer and asked that if he didn’t return by nightfall to have her sent to the Woodland Stable. Then, Link took off from the cliff behind Ze Kasho’s Shrine and glided in the direction of the strongest vibration from his Slate. In this fashion he found the Sah Dahaj Shrine—another exercise in arson—and the Mo’a Keet Shrine. Richer by two Spirit Orbs, a Knight’s Bow, a ruby, and another broadsword, Link felt quite accomplished.

He swung by the Foothill Stable, where he learned the recipe for a fireproof elixir and bought one off of Gaile, one of the several traveling merchants on their way to Eldin to sell their jewels to the Gorons.

He found a double axe just by the entrance, which he took, and continued on before anyone could discover his theft. When it seemed that he was simply retracing his steps, Link fast traveled to the Sheh Rata Shrine to save time—and he headed west.

He wasn’t sure where Helmhead Bridge was supposed to be, besides generally east of the Castle. A gaping hole still held place of a map for most of the region around the Castle and north of it, so he traveled southwest through the known parts of the Lanayru Wetlands, avoiding as much of the Lizalfos as he could. By sunset, he came in sight of the Wetland Stable; dusk was fast approaching when Link finally completed the nearby Kaya Wan Shrine. He had found an ancient core and a royal broadsword for his troubles, and he considered that perhaps he might even deserve a snooze by the fire. But what—or rather, _who_ —he found at the Wetland Stable changed his mind.

The great bard of Hyrule Forest greeted Link with a dance and a song. “Shalaka! So we meet again!”

“Hestu, it’s good to see you.” Link put his hands on his hips and grinned at the bard. “Have you made it home yet?”

“About that…” The bard drooped. “I want to go home to Korok Forest, but I’ve lost my way… According to the folks at the stable, this area is Central Hyrule… _shalako_ …which means Korok Forest is still much farther north…”

“Say, Hestu,” Link said slowly. “Does the Korok Forest have anything to do with the Lost Woods I’ve heard about?”

Hestu shook its maracas. “Why, yes! The ancient spirits of the forest, older than even the Koroks, look after our home and keep it safe from monsters by making them get lost! Like, scram, but also like, lose their way!”

“Good to know.” Link scooped out a handful of Korok seeds. “I’m going to be headed that way soon, but since you’re here…”

Hestu agreed and granted Link a significant, spacious bonus to his pack. “My maracas have never been louder!” Hestu cried joyously. “Link, you’ve given me the energy to continue on!”

“I look forward to seeing you again—in your home, Hestu.”

“You’re going north at _night_?” Hestu gasped. “Link, you’re so _brave_!”

Link indeed followed the road north, though he found no trouble until his Slate began to bother him once more. Very quickly thereafter, Link was glad that he had kept one arrow of each elemental type. The northern stretch of the Crenel Hills crawled with wizzrobes of all kinds. He hadn’t thought he’d need so many ice and fire arrows, and it was a good thing that he was so handy with a bow, because with one arrow to spare it would have been a shame to miss. Of course, he still had to deal with the chuchus, pebblets and keese—and the electrical wizzrobe who didn’t seem particularly vulnerable to any element.

He searched the many hollow tree trunks for the shrine he was searching for and came across several treasures before ever coming close to it. He wasn’t too sore for the inconvenience, though, because if he wanted to upgrade his armor he needed several elemental chuchu jellies.

He bounced a few in his hand as he walked into the Namika Ozz Shrine. He found the yellow chuchu jellies quite helpful in the Modest Test of Strength, and he quickly received his enhanced Ancient battle axe and enhanced Guardian spear. Perhaps the bladesaw would have been cooler, but these were free and came with a Spirit Orb and another frostspear.

He continued on late in to the night. He knew he had to get to the Woodland Tower at some point, but one look at the number of ‘fos and ‘bins and wizzrobes that surrounded it sent him on his way.

The woods where he’d found the star fragment were peaceful that night—and free of monsters. That didn’t mean that he didn’t have his Guardian spear and and shield at the ready; it seemed the prime location for a Yiga ambush. Fortunately, he didn’t encounter any foes as he followed the road through the woods.

All seemed well in the world until Link noticed that the birds had stopped singing. The woods began to thin, but instead of opening up to the night sky, a thick fog floated by overhead. The light of his Guardian weapons hardly pierced the murk, but he could swear that he saw glowing orbs of light fade in and out of the corners of his vision. He continued to follow the road, which had become merely a ghost of its former self; he didn’t need a map to know that he had reached the Lost Woods.

He held his shield aloft and saw that he had come to a free-standing gateway. The ancient stone was covered in moss and seemed to be all that was left of whatever structure had stood here at the entrance to the woods.

Link passed through the gate and looked around nervously. He felt no evil here in the forest, but the gnarled trees and thick fog and distant lights—and the persistent feeling that he was being watched by a thousand hidden eyes—did not make him feel safe.  
In the distance, Link caught sight of a lit torch; he set off toward it against the screams of his better instincts.

When he reached the torch, he found another flickering in the distance. He stowed his shield when he arrived at the next torch; it was easier to see the embers in the dark. A peculiar breeze followed him when he moved between the torches, and now that he had reached another, it shifted directions just enough to blow embers to the northwest.

Link turned in that direction and caught sight of another torch.

A smile broke across his face as he caught on to the trick, and he set off at a run.

When he reached a clearing with _two_ flames, Link paused for breath. The trees around him now had faces…and pointed teeth. It seemed that they were laughing at him: “What direction now, wise guy?”

Link huffed and picked up the torch that rested against one of the braziers and swiped it through the flame. “Show me the way,” he demanded the wind, and it did.

Or so he hoped.

Through the dense, greenish fog, Link could see the red tracking beams of Vah Medoh and Vah Ruta. He followed the wind directly south and nearly ran right into the gaping mouth of a tree.

He heard something giggle inside the hollow, and he carefully peered over the poking teeth to see a treasure chest embedded in the wood. He brushed moss off of its lid and wrenched it open to find a giant leafy smiling up at him. He nearly laughed.

It was large enough to cover his face, and it giggled conspiratorially as he put it on. “Don’t forget my pinwheel!” it whispered in his ear. He dutifully put it in his bun.

“Will you help me find the Korok Forest?” he asked it, but it just rattled in reply. “Fine.” He raised his torch once again and set off, following the wind.

He wondered how he must look with the Korok leaf over his face, zig-zagging through the woods like a madman about to commit arson. When he reached the canyon that certainly signaled the end of his trek, he removed the mask and added it to his pack. The spirit inside began to snore.

The first thing he noticed as he continued through the canyon was that the birds had returned; he startled several of them from their perches in the young, not-smiling trees. He removed his hood and let the sweet smell of flowers and pine fill his senses. He quenched his torch as light began to filter through the treetops once more, and he passed under the hollow arches of felled tree trunks—and into the Korok Forest.

They were everywhere, peeking out behind trees and hanging down from branches above him; they giggled in the tall grass on either side of the path and waved flowers surreptitiously as he passed by. At the center of the forest was the largest tree Link had ever seen: it, too, had a face, but this was peaceful and pleasant. At the base of the tree was a triangular dais, and in the center was the Master Sword.

It was surrounded by Silent Princesses and by three faceless statues—one for each Golden Goddess.

Link approached it slowly. His heart was in his throat as he stepped out of the grass and onto the stone. He could not take his eyes off of the sword: it waited for him, its shining white blade pristine and purified by its slumber. A single piece of amber rested at the base of the blade, and it stared at him just as he stared at it.

In the presence of the Golden Goddesses, the whole forest faded out of his perception. There was nothing in the world but the Hero, the Sword, and the Triforce.

A thousand thoughts raced through Link’s mind, but each fell silent when he reached for his sword with shaking hands.

 


	34. Fateful Stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoy. :)

Hylia’s golden light filled his mind.

In an instant, he remembered sitting in a field of flowers, surrounded by sunlight and filled with her radiant laughter—

_Link…_

—standing three paces behind as she looked out at Mount Lanayru—

_Link…_

—genuflecting at the foot of his Goddess as she sealed his fate, tied his life to that of the Sword—

_Link!_

—clinging to the ruined Master Sword with all his strength, struggling to stand as she begged him to leave her, to run. A Guardian Stalker bore down on them, and his life dripped out of him, but it didn’t matter because as long as he could just— _stand, Hero!_ —then his life wouldn’t matter, because she’d live—

_The fate of Hyrule rests with you!_

The Master Sword threw his hands off of its hilt, and he staggered back, gasping for breath. He doubled over as thousands of memories raced past his eyes, too fast to remember before they disappeared back into the mists of Time.

Sunlight danced around him through the leaves overhead. How long had he stood there, with his hands on the Sword?

The tree above him released a yawn that shook it to its very roots.

“Who is that?” The tree smacked its lips. “Did I doze off again?”

Link straightened up slowly, and the tree honed in on his presence. “Well, well…it’s you. You finally decided to return.”

 _Decided?_ Link nearly laughed at the word, but he was too rattled to make a sound.

“Better late than never.” He got the impression that the tree was appealing to an old rapport they’d had, but Link did not recall, and the humor was lost on him. “After one hundred years, I’d nearly given up on seeing you again. Even my patience has limits, you know… That look on your face tells me that you have no recollection of me, however.”

Koroks began to wander back into the clearing. He saw them peeking out from crevasses in the tree’s trunk and ducking below its roots.

“I have watched over Hyrule since time immemorial,” the tree said. “Many have referred to me over the ages as the Deku Tree.”

A beam of sunlight struck the Master Sword just as the Deku Tree addressed it. “This is the weapon created by the ancient Goddess: the sword that seals the darkness—that only the Chosen Knight can wield against Ganon in any incarnation. Believe it or not…it was actually you who wielded that sword one hundred years ago. Though you are the Goddess’s Chosen, I must warn you to take extreme caution. The sword stands as a test to anyone who would dare attempt to possess it.”

Link blinked up at the Deku Tree once more and found it frowning down at him.

“As you are now, I cannot say whether you are worthy or not. If you sought to free the sword in any sort of weakened state, you would surely lose your life where you stand.” At Link’s look of horror, the Deku Tree chuckled. “Best of luck, young one… If you hope to pull the sword from its resting place, you must use your true strength.”

The tree fell silent, and Link was left alone with the sword.

He certainly did _not_ dare to possess it. Terror filled his heart.

_Dear One…_

Link followed her voice, for he did not know what else to do. She called to him from deep within the Deku Tree, and Link had to duck to fit in to the hollow the Koroks had carved out beneath the Deku Tree’s roots.

Despite its indoor location, the Goddess Statue was bathed in shifting, welcoming light.

“Am I strong enough?” he asked as he came to kneel before her. “What does that even mean?”

 _You have great strength, Dear One,_ she said. _Your spirit is unbreakable—as is the sword that seals the darkness. Yet in your last stand, both Sword and Hero fought harder than ever before…and both fell, utterly broken. I will not let you fall again!_

Link stared through the Goddess Statue, unseeing. She had not raised her voice—she had no _voice_ —but he was rocked by her words nonetheless. She would not let him fall again. She told him to take her love with him. Did he need her to say that she loved him? Did she need _him_ to say it?

The silence that fell between them was heady with emotion that he wasn’t certain was his.

“Please, give me strength,” he whispered.

_You will have it. Now, go. Seek out the Trials of the forest spirits, and test your strength._

 

The Koroks had given him privacy while he conversed with the Goddess, and they gave him distance still when he exited the Deku Tree. His Slate had told him that there was a Shrine very close by, and he wanted to activate it before traveling anywhere else. The Goddess had told him to test his strength, and it reminded him of something he had forgotten—but first…

Link activated the Travel Gate on the Keo Ruug Shrine and entered; when he saw that the Trial was called “Fateful Stars,” he suddenly wished he had put it off. Its name and its proximity to the Master Sword felt like a taunt from the cosmos.

Link took a photo of the constellations on the far wall of the Shrine. He was certain they meant something, beyond being part of the puzzle, but he was not an astronomer. If he had ever known the identity of such constellations, they were lost to him now.

Having completed the Keo Ruug Shrine, he used the Slate to return to Tena Ko’sah’s Major Test of Strength. In the entrance of the Shrine, he did back his hair and did his best to prepare himself. He donned his Ancient cuirass and greaves and selected a Guardian sword and shield for the battle ahead. He had faced a Lynel and won. Whatever Tena Ko’sah threw at him would pale in comparison.

…Unless he were to face a Guardian Stalker.

Link shook himself. He would not allow his phobias overcome him before the Trial even began.

Link activated his sword and walked into the arena. An involuntarily shudder passed through him as the gate slammed closed behind him and the Guardian rose up out of its slot in the ground. This Guardian seemed to be made out of tougher material than the others, and it wielded not only a sword and shield but also a battle axe as well. But it was no Guardian Stalker.

He was filled with calm as the Guardian scuttled toward him. The first phase of the fight wasn’t a fight: it was reconnaissance. He perfectly dodged every attack and made note of the robot’s patterns. The sword stabbed, twisted, and slashed downward, while the axe always swung from side to side—twice each time. When there was distance between them, the Guardian went into its spinning-death mode, but Link guessed that, like previous Tests of Strength, it would short-circuit if it hit one of the stone pillars around the room.  
Link decided to stop wasting his stamina on dodging and start the Trial in earnest.

He parried a stab from the sword and lunged for the opening—

His first strike.

He backflipped to avoid the swing of the axe not once but twice; his feet hardly touched the ground, and he was feather-light in the air. When he landed, he slipped through time with ease and landed a flurry of blows that sent the machine spinning.

It withdrew its weapons and began to spin its head, laser pointed downward—just high enough to cut him off at the ankles. He preferred the distance, so he hid behind the pillar and peeked out just enough to chuck a round bomb at it.

The blast pushed the Guardian even further from him, and it went into spin-mode. Link only needed to take one step back to let it crash into the pillar he had hid behind, and then he spun into action himself. He exerted himself nearly to his limit, and he was slow to dodge the blow from the battle axe.

It caught him in the thigh, and he fell. The Ancient greaves had stopped the worst of the blow, but blood gushed from the wound nevertheless. It was all he could do to keep his scream contained, and he dragged himself along the ground until he had cover behind another pillar. The Guardian fired useless blasts at the stone, but Link hardly noticed.

The pain was unbearable, and as wave after wave of it hit his brain his consciousness almost gave up. But he grit his teeth and popped open a hearty elixir and poured it on his leg. Then, even as the wound healed, he stood.

An agonized groan escaped his clenched teeth as he discarded his shield and retrieved his sword. His vision swam with tears from the pain, and he struggled to—

_Focus._

He adjusted his grip and stalked toward the Guardian. He liberated the offending battle axe from the Guardian’s body—in the process, he hacked his own Guardian sword to pieces, but it was of no consequence; he simply picked up the battle axe and continued his attack.

The amber inlays of the Ancient cuirass sang whenever the blue aura of the Guardian’s sword came close, and it seemed to soften the blows. Desperate, the Guardian scuttled away and retracted its weapons and began charging its laser.

Link wound up his swing with the battle axe and braced himself for impact—impact— _impact!_

The third blow cut through the Guardian’s thick trunk and triggered an explosion that threw Link across the arena. He hit a stone pillar hard, but he was naught but a little disoriented when he finally stood. The Guardian’s tall shield and its sword remained amid the pile of ancient parts.

Link collected them, his movements ginger and slow, and made his way across the large battleground to meet Tena Ko’sah.

 

When Link left the Shrine, he found that the moblin he had killed nearly a week ago had been resurrected by the Blood Moon—and seemed out for revenge. Link did not tarry long enough for it to get within arm’s reach, and he fast traveled back to the Korok Forest.

A Korok waited for him just below the Travel Gate.

“Hey, Mr. Hero, sir!”

Link sat on the edge of the Gate and began to remove his armor. He was grateful for the cool breeze that swept through the forest and soothed his feverish brow. “My name is Link,” he told the Korok. “Do you have a name?”

“Kula!” the little Korok said. “Mr. Hero, we need to make sure you’re resourceful enough to shoulder Hyrule’s burden, so we’ve prepared a trial just for you! Are you ready—oh!” Kula held its hands up to its mask, having caught sight of the blood that had dried on his thigh. “Maybe later!”

Link chuckled a little. “Yes, in a little bit,” he said. He shouldered his armor and walked back to the Deku Tree’s navel. He approached the inn keeper, a little green Korok with a round mask that shook with excitement as he came up.

“OOOOH!” the Korok squealed. “You’re Mr. Hero, aren’t you?!”

“My name is Link.”

“The Great Deku Tree told me all about you, and I made a bed out of leaves just for you, Mr. Hero! I’ve been waiting for so long, I though I might start to put down roots.”

Link’s mouth was dry. “Did you really wait one hundred years for me to sleep here?”

“Well, _duh!”_ the Korok cried. “We all did!”

Link set down his armor and reached into his pack for his rupees, but at the sound of the jingling gem shards, the Korok jumped up and down, waving its arms to stop him. “Oh, I don’t want your rupees! You’re the great Mr. Hero! I prepared this bed for you ages ago! All I want is to help you get some sleep.”

He felt ashamed by the tears that lurked, unbidden, in his throat, and he could say nothing. He swept the Korok into a hug, and the little creature gladly hugged him right back. In that moment, as his own body heat seeped into the cool wood of the forest spirit in his arms, Link remembered how great it was to be touched by another living being.

He treasured Hylia’s embrace—but to be hugged by another living thing made him appreciate the beat of his own heart, the breaths he took, the life that pumped through him. He hadn’t been hugged by a living thing in one hundred years…or maybe more, and it melted away something that had been bound up inside him, something that ached and throbbed.

Link curled up among the leaves and slept soundly through the afternoon.


	35. Trials in the Forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R

When he woke, somewhat refreshed, Link found that Hestu had arrived at last.

 _“Shalaka!”_ the minstrel cried, raising his maracas high at the sight of Link approaching. “It’s you! I’m impressed you found your way through the Lost Woods and made it here… But then again, you are Mr. Hero!” Hestu twirled. “Which, I knew, by the way!”

Link laughed and bent to wash the blood from his clothes in the clear water that covered the ground here. He splashed his face with it and ran his wet hands through his hair to push it back out of his eyes and keep it there.

“Kula?” he called as he straightened up.

“Kula is asleep!” a wizened-looking Korok called in response. “Are you ready for the Korok Trials, is that why you look for Kula, Mr. Hero?”

Link approached the strange Korok. “You have a mushroom on your head.”

“You’re Mr. Hero!” the Korok replied. “The mushroom on my head suddenly sprouted today, so I knew something was up—it was a prediction that you’d come! …I think. But here you are! You are here!”

“Yes, I am.” Link raised his eyebrows at the Korok. “The Goddess instructed me to attempt your trials.”

The Korok nodded vigorously. “Wise! These trials will help you grow even stronger than you are now. Among them is an extra-tough one designed by me, the elder of Korok Forest: Chio! So, will you test your mettle in the Korok Trials?”

Link nodded.

“You know,” Chio said, drooping a little, “if you keep doing everything everyone asks of you without question, you’re gonna get conned eventually…”

 _Granté would agree,_ Link thought, amused.

“Long story short, you need to visit all the shrines in the Korok Forest so that you can be considered a real grown-up!” Chio proclaimed. _“Trial one!”_ Chio shook itself to attention and stamped its foot. “In the southwest forest: Trial of Second Sight! _Trial two!_ In the northwest forest: The Lost Pilgrimage! _Trial three!_ In the eastern forest: The Test of Wood!”

Chio hopped on one foot. “If you can overcome the Korok Trials, you can overcome anything! Did the Goddess say that?!”

Link could only smile at Chio. “Where do I begin?”

“Follow the lanterns!”

Chio pointed at a giant, glowing bean sprout that Link assumed was a lantern, and he set off down a path marked by several lantern pods.

Frogs and small birds scattered out of his way, and soon the swirling, enchanted fog of the Lost Woods poured down on him from above. Just where the fog became too thick to see through, a Korok waited.

“Hey, hero guy! I was told you’d be coming. But do you really think you’re ready for the Test of Wood?! Some say it’s the hardest of the Korok Trials!”

Link put his hands on his hips. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

The Korok gasped in awe. “Then equip this Korok weapon set and reach the shrine at the back of the area.” It hopped off of the chest it had used as a soap box and bade him open it. Inside lay a shield of sturdy wood, and beneath it Link found a flexible wooden bow with sturdy vines for bowstring and a wooden sword of similar construction.

Link stowed his other weapons and equipped the ones in the chest. “You look like a true Forest Dweller!” the Korok cried. “Now, go! Show them what you’ve got!”

He headed deeper into the Lost Woods. The trees around him were once again the gnarled and twisted trees that guarded the Korok Forest from intruders, but now they were populated by keese and stalmonsters and chuchus. He trusted the wood of the Forest Dweller’s weapons, but he was loathe to use them—and no one had told him he wasn’t allowed to use runes, now, did they?—so he summoned several bombs and kicked them in the direction of his enemies to clear his path. When no Koroks appeared to protest his strategy, he continued on.

He was particularly glad for the runes when he encountered several fire keese; the wooden weapons would have done him no good against them.

He nearly lost his head because of several octoroks who made a bottomless bog their home, but with Cryonis as his shields, he crossed the bogs and reached the Shrine.

“GOAAAAAL!”

The Korok floated down on a propeller made of a twig and leaves and landed on his head, then hopped onto a nearby rock. “Congratulations! You’ve passed the Test of Wood! Well done, hero man! Happiness awaits you at the shrine!”

Link was skeptical, but he thanked the Korok and went to receive Maag Halan’s blessing. When he bent to lift his giant ancient core, Link wondered what the other Korok Trials were like, if this had been the hardest.

He left with a Spirit Orb and returned to the Shrine by the Deku Tree. He kept his Forest Dweller’s weapons out, for they were light and smelled quite nice, if Link were to admit it. This time, when he followed the bean lanterns into the dark forest, he nearly ran past the Korok who was supposed to give him his Trial.

“Mr. Hero! Mr. Hero!”

When Link turned, the Korok swooned. “I knew it! You’re just as handsome and heroic as they say!”

Link’s eyes widened. He somewhat understood the possibility that someone of his own species would find him attractive—but a Korok? It was a plant!

“For the sake of the Golden Goddesses,” he muttered and walked up to the Korok. “What Trial do you have for me?”

“The Lost Pilgrimage!” the Korok cried. “My little Oaki just now set off to do the same pilgrimage, actually…” The Korok wilted with anxiety. “Normally, I’d go along too, but Oaki insisted on going alone. I let Oaki go… but, well, I’m just getting worried! Please follow Oaki without being seen and make sure nothing bad happen!”

Link raised his eyebrows. “I can do whatever is necessary, yeah?”

“Of course!”

Then he would call upon his Sheikah stealth once more.

He donned his newly repaired Sheikah armor and put his dark Hylian hood on over it, so he would blend in with the shadows more easily. Then he stowed all of his weapons, save the Forest Dweller’s shield, and set off to follow Oaki.

Fortunately, the little Korok’s legs could not take it very far, and Link quickly spotted it tottering through the tall grass and wisps of fog. It would be hard to see Oaki in the shadows, for it was the same shade of green-gray as the grass, but Link tried to keep his focus only on the Korok—and not on the shifting shadows, the faint cracks and creaks of the forest, or the faint laughter that pervaded the woods.

Oaki frequently stopped to look around and double back. Soon, the Korok was absolutely convinced that it was being trailed by a ghost. …A ghost that liked to pick blue nightshade.

Link had nothing better to do than to pick the little glowing blossoms while he waited for Oaki to continue on, and it amused him that the Korok thought ghosts would pick flowers in their free time.

Oaki was easily distracted by flowers and falling tree branches and glimmering orbs of enchanted lights—and it was easily spooked, as well. The Korok nearly spotted Link just as they reached the halfway point; as they passed through a hollow, fallen tree trunk, Oaki exclaimed, “AH! A GHOST!” and doubled back. Fortunately, Link had not gotten far out from the tree trunk and jumped behind it. His cloak hid his white Sheikah armor and obscured his form in the dark grass, saving him from being caught.

Eventually, Oaki convinced itself that the ghost was merely a shadow, and they continued on.

Link soon realized that he was not the only one following the little Korok: a wolf prowled silently in the distance, its gleaming eyes the only sign of its presence. As quietly as Link could, for risk of alerting Oaki to his existence and that of the wolf, he drew the Forest Dweller’s bow and fired a single arrow at the wolf. It split into three identical arrows and killed the wolf instantly.

He nearly lost Oaki in the process, but he managed to hear a distance shriek that got him back on the trail.

“There it is! There’s the Shrine!”

When Oaki reached the Travel Gate, Link figured that the Trial was over, so he threw back his hood and pulled down his scarf so that his friendly smile would be visible for the Korok.

“Oaki?”

“AH! Who’s there?” Oaki fell over in fright. “Oh, are you that hero guy? You know—Mr. Hero?”

Link nodded.

“Guess what, Mr. Hero!” Oaki ran up to his feet and tugged on the hem of his cloak. “I did the trial all by myself! Aren’t I brave?”

Link nodded again. “Yes, you are. It was quite a scary pilgrimage.”

The little Korok giggled delightedly. “The Great Deku Tree said that the monk’s blessing is waiting in the Shrine ahead! Why don’t you go take a look?”

“I think I will. Good idea.”

Inside Daag Chokah’s Blessing, Link wondered if these trials would have been very hard for him if he had attempted them weeks ago, just after waking from his hundred years’ sleep. He couldn’t imagine it—but then again, he could hardly imagine that just a few weeks ago he had struggled to fight a single red bokoblin on his own.

He knew so much more, now, about the world and its evils. He knew how to prepare himself against them, for the most part, too.

He paid his respects to Daag Chokah and returned to the Korok Forest. One last Korok Trial—and Shrine—remained.

“Do you want to try my Korok Trial?” the Korok’s mask was brown with age, and it seemed much older than Oaki. Link wondered idly if he might figure out how Korok aging worked. Perhaps in another lifetime. “Oh wow, you really want to try it?! I guess it was worth asking after all.”

“The Goddess knows of your trials and recommended them,” Link said, and the Korok nearly fainted with joy.

“All you need to do is keep going and not get lost in the mist!”

_Are you serious?_

“What’s wrong? You don’t look very excited. Are you worried? Because I’ve got a cryptic little hint for you! ‘The hungry trees will show you the way. Spy their iron to win the day.’”

These trials were made for _him_ , Link reminded himself. The Hero was meant to have the Sheikah Slate and all its runes; this trial must require Magnesis, then.

“Didn’t I make that sound cool?” The Korok clapped its hands, and Link set off.

The trees that lined his path had giant magnetic boulders in their mouths, which made his path fairly clear. The path, however, was littered with stalfos of all kinds. He tried to outrun them, but he was afraid of getting lost, so eventually he had to dispatch them.  
After fending off several wolves, chuchus, and stalbins, he reached a clearing lined with torches and face trees. A plaque stood at the far end:

_Feed me the aged shield guarded by monsters eternal. My brother will repay you in kind._

Link looked around with Magnesis and found a rusty shield atop the mound in the center of the clearing. It had been surrounded by skeletal monsters, so that fit the bill.

He threw the shield into the tree’s mouth. Then he heard a distant crash, and Magnesis revealed that there was a chest in a distant tree’s mouth as well.

Without waiting to see what was in the chest, Link dragged it with him using Magnesis. He could see torches ahead, and he’d have to raft over to the island they lay on—he’d have time to open it as he floated across the lake.

Link was glad that he always had a Korok leaf on hand for wrapping food and wounds, and he used it to give the mast a mighty wind to sail with. There was a large hunk of amber in the chest, nothing special, but he was glad he brought it with him. The next riddle required him to put the chest in this tree’s mouth, just as he had with the shield.

He was slightly amused by the allusion to these scary trees having families and feuds, but it soon left his mind. He had completed a test of strength and the Korok Trials, now that he had Kuhn Sidajj’s blessing—and a third giant ancient core.

“What?!” cried Chio when Link returned, triumphant. “You’ve finished all of the trials?” Chio whistled to show his appreciation. “It’s not even midnight! You’re so cool, Mr. Hero! Ah! I know that look.”

Chio leaned close to Link’s face.

“You want me to give you something since you visited all the places, don’t you?”

Link opened his mouth to protest, but Chio cut him off. “…I guess I have no choice. I’ll give you my treasured item.”

“But Chio—”

Link shut his mouth as Chio handed him three big hearty truffles. He wasn’t about to turn those down.

 

He couldn’t return to the Goddess Statue. For all the strength he’d gained, for all that his spirit had been enhanced, Link could not will his feet to bring him to her once more.

So Link spent the night in Hateno.

Link was surprised to find that Bolson kept vigil outside his house at the campfire, though his men slept nearby. “Oh, you know,” Bolson said dismissively when Link asked what kept him awake. Link did not know, but since Bolson was awake, he’d need a few more weapon mounts in the near future…

Rupees exchanged hands, and Link entered his home.

He washed sweat and blood from his skin and dug his nails into his scalp to get out the worst of what had accumulated there over his recent travels. Then, leaving his mail aside for now, he pulled on his Champion Tunic and Snowquill trousers and climbed onto the roof.

The moon was bright above him and nearly obscured the stars, but Link lay back against his chimney and stared upward anyway.

His hair dripped down the back of his neck, and he shivered in the cool Spring breeze that floated westward from the coast. Soon it would be summer; he didn’t know how he knew it, but he felt it with conviction. There was something in the air, in the angle of the sun during the day, the way the birds sang. It was a knowledge that had not been robbed from him by death, and it was the same kind of instinctive, unconscious knowledge as his familiarity with horseflesh.

It came from the same place where memories whispered, memories that were centuries, millennia old—and older.

And they were all _his._


	36. The Blade's Chosen Hero.

Tully fog swirled around his feet when he landed in front of the Temple of Time. The Great Plateau slept peacefully around him; the sun had barely breached the horizon when Link mustered the courage to face his fate once and for all. He could have gone to any Goddess Statue—in Hateno, which had been closest, or inside the Great Deku Tree, which made some degree of sense—but he felt drawn to this place by something deep in his spirit.

He was grateful for the privacy, here in the Temple. It had become part of the wild, and it had the loneliness and beauty that made Hyrule so dear to him in such a short amount of time.

_Dear One._

She took the Spirit Orbs from him, but he did not need them to feel strong. He looked up at her with blue eyes unclouded by doubt.

_You will have the strength you seek, and you may always turn to me for more—but your spirit is unbreakable._

“With your blessing, I will always have strength.” The words bubbled up in his chest, and he found no reason to keep them to himself. “May I be worthy of it.”

_You are my Chosen, Hero. Go, fetch your Sword, and take my love with you._

 

Link stood before the Master Sword, surrounded by Silent Princesses and the Golden Goddesses once more. The pure white flowers glistened like glass in the dappled sunlight.

When he laid his hands on the Sword, he felt it fuse into his spirit. It fought him, unwilling to leave its resting place if he had doubt in his breast; it challenged every fiber of his being, tested the quality of his life force.

_We will not break again._

He believed it like he believed the sun would rise every morning.

The Sword gave an inch.

_We will not break again._

He knew it like he knew the beat of his own heart.

The Sword thrummed in his hand.

_We will not break again._

He felt it like he felt the touch of the Goddess.

 _We will not break again,_ the Sword said, in awe, and the Divine Seal broke. Aura burst around them as the enchantment broke apart. Link nearly released the Sword as the shock pushed against him, but he tightened his grip and pulled one final time.

He stood there for a moment, each breath a blessing. The Master Sword gleamed before him, its blade as white as the flowers around them. He adjusted his grip, held the blade aloft in one hand. He let the blade fall forward, slowly, relishing the feeling of its perfect balance. He brought the blade up before him, bowed his forehead against the flat of the blade.

_Fi is very pleased to see you again, Master… My friend._

Link raised the sword above his head and looked to the heavens.

 

“ _Your master will come for you. Until then, you shall rest safely here.”_

_This was the Sword’s memory, as it lay dying. It no longer felt the beat of the Hero’s heart, and soon, it too would fade into oblivion… But the Goddess, the hand that had forged it, that gave it life, was there. She had saved the Hero, and now…she would save his Sword._

_“Although the Slumber of Restoration will most certainly deprive him of his memories, please trust me when I say that I know he will arrive before you yet again.”_

_The voice of the Great Deku Tree poured over them like wind through the trees; Fi relaxed at the sound of its companion through the millenia._ _“If I may be so bold…what is it that you are planning to do next, Princess?”_

_“The Master Sword… I heard it speak to me. It seems that my role is unfinished.” She stood, and her warmth withdrew from the Sword’s blade. “There is still something I must do.”_

_“I sense there is great strength in your dedication,” said the Deku Tree gently._

_“Great Deku Tree,” she said in the softest voice. “I ask of you, when he returns, can you please relay this message…” The Goddess and the Girl flared up as one, stepped closer to the Sword, and the Sword felt hope. “Tell him I—”_

_“Now, then… Words intended for him would sound much better in the tones of your voice, don’t you think?”_

_The Girl and the Goddess were at peace. “Yes,” she said, and she was beautiful, and she was bright._

_She knelt between the Triune Goddesses and lifted the broken Sword. It slipped easily into the earth, and the power of the Golden Goddesses flowed in to it._ It is time to sleep, _the Sword thought._

I will not let you break again, _the Goddess replied._

 

Link opened his eyes again and looked at the blade. There was no fanfare; his world did not reset; he did not suddenly unlock the Hero. Rather, the first thing that came back to him was _the knowledge of the Sword._  

 _I missed you,_ it whispered. _I dreamed of your touch_.

Link grasped the blade in two hands and lowered it once more. Excitement coursed through it, but for the first time in his life, Link felt serene. He swung the Sword through the air, and its refined edge sang to the heavens as it cut the air as easily as it could sunder flesh from bone and soul from body. No blade moved like it, seemed to have a life of its own in his hand—cooperated with him, foresaw his movements.

Three Koroks approached, carrying his sheath, and he twirled the blade in his left hand before sliding it into its home and returning it to his back.

“What you just saw happened where you stand one hundred years ago. After you were separated from the sword, the princess thought to bring it here, where she knew that it would be safe under my watch.” Link looked up at the Deku Tree, at the pink flowers that floated down above them. “She continues to fight, trapped deep within the confines of Hyrule Castle.”

The Deku Tree, for all his gentleness and wisdom, could not hide the sadness in his voice. “Her heart cascades with faith that you will return. She has a smile like the sun… I would do much to feel its warmth upon me once again.”

Link understood.

“When used against the Calamity or those tainted by his Malice, it will become suffused with holy light… At such times, the true power of the sword will manifest, but be warned. Do not rely too much on its power. You have fallen once, and nearly took the Master Sword with it. Rest when your spirit and your sword need rest, Hero.”

Link could not imagine _rest_ , when for the first time he felt _complete_. He did not remember all; he did not feel an unending flow of courage—but he could not sit idly by, not now.

He ran into the Lost Woods and allowed the ancient spirits there to drag him deep into the mist, to laugh in his ears, and to throw him out at the entrance. He breathed deep of the woods, then set off to retrieve Prayer from the Woodland Stable.

It was early enough that Link was the only one awake besides Kish, the stable owner—and Kish was barely awake, at that. He seemed unable to focus much without his morning tea; all he could talk about was how beautiful Prayer’s new armor was. “The missus saw her coming up the road and said, ‘Why, that could be the Hero’s own!’” Kish chortled. “That Granté sure has an eye for armor, doesn’t he?”

Link cast a small smile down at Kish and nudged Prayer onward.

 _Where should we go?_ he asked the Sword, but he could not hear the Sword’s reply. He felt the Sword’s desire to help, but he understood that it was limited. Perhaps it, like his body, had not been completely restored by one hundred years’ slumber.

_Chosen One…_

Prayer stopped as the monks called out to her rider.

 _The Hero called Link… The time has come. You are now ready to test the limits of your courage. At the place where you reunited with the Master Sword, the sacred Korok Forest. Go there, and heed the Great Deku Tree’s words. Do so, and a glorious trial will be bestowed upon you_.

“We just _left_ ,” Link muttered. The Sword pulsed, but the intended message was lost on Link. “Well, Prayer, I hope you don’t mind scary trees.”

They returned to the Korok Forest—this time, Link saw that his path was guided by normal trees carefully hidden behind the biggest and scariest face trees in the Lost Woods.

He rode back up to the dais and felt no ancient presence of the Golden Goddesses; even the Deku Tree seemed surprised that he returned so soon.

He dismounted and let Prayer go graze the young grass at the base of the Deku Tree.

“What’s this? A voice beckoned you here?” The Deku Tree wracked its great mind for the meaning of it all. “Ah, yes. The time has come. An arduous trial awaits you.”

Link drew the Sword, and it shone radiantly in the morning light. “We’re ready.”

“That sword you have reunited with…the Master Sword… Like you, Hero, it has yet to regain its true splendor. This trial shall test your courage to ensure you are worthy of being called Hero once more.”

The serenity that had settled around Link’s shoulders like a mantle dripped away and left him feeling no more than the child he was. It wasn’t fair. The Goddess had named him her Hero once more, had told him he was strong enough. Here, the monks were telling him they disagreed.

Frustration flared up in him. Who was right? How could he dare doubt the Goddess’s word?

“The Trial of the Sword will challenge you as you have never been challenged before. All your weapons and armor will be sealed away. You must face your enemies without the tools you’ve come to rely on—only your strength, gained by trial and the Goddess’s blessing, will aid you.

“Once you have tempered your soul and proved your Wisdom and Courage by completing the Trial of the Sword, you will regain the Power needed to wield the Master Sword with balance. Then, you will be more powerful than any incarnation before you, and no evil will stand in your presence.”

_Is this why my memories haven’t returned?_

Fi thrummed. Perhaps.

His soul ached at the weakness of its voice, and the knowledge that he was responsible weighed heavily in his heart. He still owed the Sword, even if he had proved to the Goddess that he had the strength she required of him.

“Unless my eyes deceive me, you seem quite wiling to take on this trial,” the Deku Tree said softly, “despite the battle between faith and doubt that I sense in your heart. You are a Hero through and through. Now, Link… Place the Master Sword in its pedestal and prove it to us all.”

Link stared down at the pedestal, at the Master Sword in his hand. All eyes in the forest were on him now.

The thought of being separated from the Sword again wracked him with shivers. He could not bear it—

 _Master_ , the Sword pleaded. _I will wait._

Link exhaled slowly. “I will be back for you,” he told it, and with two hands lowered it back into its pedestal to rest.

He felt himself torn apart into the ether, and he was ripped away mercilessly from his counterpart.

When he rematerialized, he stood on a silent Travel Gate in the middle of a sparse forest like that on the Great Plateau—and yet, he was surrounded by the walls of a Shrine.

_To the blade’s Chosen Hero… In the name of the Goddess Hylia, I offer the Trial of the Sword._

He was as naked as he had been in the Shrine of Resurrection, though after a quick appraisal he found that he still had the Sheikah Slate, the paraglider, his (emptied) pack, and his sword belt. He nearly smiled, but the words of the monks wiped it from his face.

_You presently lack the power necessary to wield the true splendor of the Master Sword… You must fortify your mind, body, and soul by eradicating all obstacles that appear in this realm. In this illusory realm of sacred mystery, anything can happen… All that you obtain here will be lost upon your return to the reality you know._

_Chosen Hero of the Master Sword! Overcome this Trial and claim the blade’s true splendor!_

 


	37. Trial by Combat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R

Link hopped a little to get his blood flowing. He was going to be fine.

He quickly cleared the first stage with his bomb runes, and he stole food and supplies from the bokoblins he’d just eradicated. The next stage was far worse. The bokos had better weapons, were on high alert, had archers—and he was a soft, fleshy target.

He quickly eradicated a fire chuchu and rode the thermal currents high into the Shrine’s ceiling. At its apex, he closed the glider, grabbed his axe, and fell, heavily, onto the bokoblin guard at the top of the tree base.

The heavy blows of the axe pushed them all off of their perches, and he was free to rain bombs down on them from above. One archer remained on a distant platform, out of reach of the bombs, but once he’d killed all the rest he did not fear running over to it and shoving it mercilessly from its post.

He had yet to sustain any injuries, and he was quite satisfied with his spoils: arrows, bows, shields, even a good sword. But it was not the Master Sword, and now that his body remembered how to wield it, nothing would ever compare.

Link made his way to the Travel Gate and headed to the next stage.

He ended up with some burns after the next stage, but he found a boomerang that made the pain almost worth it. He sat high above the army of chuchus and tossed bombs down on them until no more oozed out of the ground.

So much for the third trial.

The fourth was difficult without a good bow, but he made do. He was able to get the highest vantage point and acquire several bomb barrels that he used to rain hell down on the boko base below. From such a high vantage point, it was easy to account for bow drop, and the bokos stood no chance.

One blue bokoblin with a Soldier’s broadsword gave him trouble, but one perfect dodge later and he was staring down at the last remaining embers of Ganon’s Malice dripping off of his own blade.

He was immediately spotted by moblins on the fifth floor, but he ran between their legs and scrambled atop the skull base the bokos had made for themselves. He took care of them easily with a few head shots, then dropped onto the nose of the hideout to introduce the boko’s hanging lantern to their barrels of explosives.

At this point, his blood burned with pride. Three weeks ago, he would have struggled with even the first stage of these trials. Now, perhaps an hour into it, he had filled his pack with food and arrows and ever-stronger weapons.

The sixth stage was something he had not encountered before, but perhaps he was wise to the ways of the world and could anticipate the struggle ahead. The great boulder in the middle of the arena had a luminous stone deposit growing atop it, and he assumed that that was the source of the rock monster’s power. For it had to be a rock monster, right?

Link stood beside several barrels of explosive juice, and after locking on to them with Stasis, he sent them flying straight into the luminous deposit.

The Stone Talus—as the Slate identified it—broke out of the ground before immediately falling prone where it stood. Link ran full-tilt at it and leaped upon its back before it could regain its wits.

The spiked boko bat he’d stolen in the last stage packed quite the punch, but the Stone Talus was able to buck him off after a particularly desperate thrash. Link caught himself with his glider and landed in a tree, out of sight.

The Talus thundered around in search of him while he calmly readied Magnesis and dropped two metal crates on its head. That seemed to be all that was needed to crack the luminous deposit and beat the trial.

The seventh floor was not a trial, though perhaps it was a test of his wisdom. He nearly ran right to the cooking pot, but he saw the fairy just in time and fell to the ground, silent, so not to scare it off. He had no bottle for it, but the pocket he usually filled with Korok seeds was emptied, here, and it would do.

After collecting the fairy, he collected several good weapons and pieces of armor from the crates at the side of the room, and he took the time to cook. He was pleased with his knowledge of healing recipes and strengthening dishes, gathered from the King’s diary and notices placed around Hyrule’s stables and grocers. He had not ignored them on his journey, though sometimes he forgot to write them down. Except Koko’s recipes, of course.

As he sat, watching his armored carp fry, Link thought of the tiny girls who were the only members of their generation of Sheikah. He could not imagine that they would grow up to renounce Hylia and pledge allegiance to the Calamity, to Demise, but Granté’s sober words worried him. When would the Yiga come for Kokko and Cotta? For their father? Granté had mentioned that the Yiga had grown more bold—or more desperate—in the last three weeks since Link had left the Shrine of Resurrection. It was only a matter of time.

The final levels of the Trials (which, Link realized, were only _the Beginning Trials_ ), passed smoothly. Well, except for the electric wizzrobe, but after a terrible shock from its lightning rod he got his revenge with several arrows directly to the face. His stealth came in handy against the red lizalfos; his cunning led him to cross an indoor ocean with Cryonis alone and to avoid confrontation by luring his enemies into the deep, swift waters.

Finally, he reached the twelfth floor. A giant ogre with a single great eye slumbered in the center of the very, very bare arena.

He had yet to encounter such a thing; weapons of old were embedded deep in its scarred hide, and Link coveted them for his own. He climbed a tree as quietly as he could and glided down to land, feather-light, on the beast’s stomach. He plucked swords and shields from its skin and held his breath all the while; the ogre never woke.

That is, until he drove a shock arrow deep into its dreaming eye.

The monster’s agonized screams nearly ruptured his eardrums, but he did not flinch. He drove his sword deep into the ogre’s eye socket and twisted.

His blind opponent crashed around the arena but never landed a blow. It fell heavily behind him, and the last Travel Gate awoke.

 

This place was somewhere deep and far. The Goddess had given the Sword Monks a place removed from Time and Space to host their trials; the aura pulsed around him, beautiful and blue in the lantern far above, the constellations before him, and the runes written below.

Link stood on a circular platform suspended high above the void. A narrow wooden bridge connected this platform to the next; it had no rails, no guard.

_To the one chosen by the sacred blade… I commend your efforts in this trial. You have proved to us that you are strong enough to wield more of the Master Sword’s power than ever before._

_Courageous Hero… Chosen of the Blade… Take hold of the Master Sword._

Link ran to the Sword without hesitation. Divine Light bubbled up from its pedestal and coursed through the blade. But Link did not immediately take it.

He turned to where he saw the monk watching him.

_Nayru, I hope this is wise._

“Show yourself!” he shouted. His voice echoed in the vast cavern but met no response. “Let me see the one who denies me the strength I seek! Who demands my worth when the Goddess Herself has deemed me worthy?”

The Sword made a sound, and when Link turned to face it again he found that the blade was gone. Light bubbled up from its slot in the stone, and it pooled around his feet like water. In the water, his reflection was blurred, but his blue eyes were bright.

“You have woken us from our slumber, boy.”

Link looked to his right. A Sheikah woman, withered and bent with age, stood in the water beside him. She was hardly corporeal and the ends of her sleeves melted into mist; her face was obscured by the same hat that Impa wore.

She raised a hand to him dismissively and addressed the room. “This boy thinks he has the strength to defeat the Calamity!”

Before Link stood two other Sheikah Elders. Perhaps they were monks, but they were hidden beneath thick robes and all Link could see was their long hair. Behind them was the symbol of the Sheikah Slate, surrounded by a halo of words that were at once familiar and forgotten to Link.

He was glad he was clothed now. He didn’t know how he’d find the courage to speak to these people if he were naked as before. He could hardly find the courage now.

“I will free Vah Naboris and Vah Rudania on my own,” Link said. “I would do it with or without the Master Sword at my side. And I will defeat the Calamity and give Zelda reprieve at last. All you do is prolong the battle, prolong her suffering, by keeping my power from me.”

“That is not how it works,” an Elder said. “You must—”

“Nah.” Link braced himself for the punishment that would come for interrupting an Elder, but none came. He felt emboldened. “You could restore the Sword at once! ‘Overcome this Trial and claim the blade’s true splendor,’ that’s what you said. Did I not overcome the trial—and with ease?”

The only elder with a staff raised it. “Your strength means nothing,” she said. She slammed the butt of her staff against the ground, and the shock sent mist and light rippling against his feet. “What you want is your soul restored, boy. No Shrine, no Goddess can heal what you let fester. In conquering the Trials of the Sword, _you_ slowly restore the balance that was lost in your soul long, long ago.”

Link was silent for a moment. “What do you mean, long ago? How am I to heal a wound that I am unaware I have?”

The little elder beside him put her hand on his arm. When he looked at her now, he saw Impa in her stead. “You have always been plagued with the same fears and doubts that you’ve faced in this life,” she said. “No Hero is without them. But as the eternal cycle continued, Despair grew in your heart! You turned your back on the Trine Goddesses, and your soul was poisoned with Malice.”

“Child of Farore.” The Sheikah who spoke lifted their wrinkled hands in praise of the Golden Goddess. “Your Courage is your own. Your Wisdom has saved Hyrule and the Goddess Hylia countless times. You have the Power to awaken yourself, to face your destiny—and to live with the curse of Demise.”

“Now, Link! Take hold of your Sword, and wield the soul of the Hero!”


	38. Flesh, and Blood, and Steel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R.

He stood at the foot of the Deku Tree once more, but he had his back to the great Forest Guardian. He stood with his hands on the Master Sword, and he stared into the eyes of the Hero.

Of course, the face Link saw was his own, but the Hero bore the scars of all of his lives, and each were of the kind only seen behind the eyes. He stood before Link, dressed in the green of all Heroes, but he did not reach for his Sword. He could not bid his arms to do so, not even once more.

The Hero was so very old and so very tired.

“Why do you despair?” Link asked. “We have always prevailed.”

“A thousand heroes won a thousand battles,” the Hero said once again, “but all must come to death. What is another life forgotten, of a thousand? Why raise arms if it will be all for naught?”

“To protect her. To succeed alongside her. To be her one comfort in this eternal war.”

“The Goddess draws strength from her mothers, and she gives us the strength we need in battle. But what strength do we truly have, if in an age from now, we must open the same wounds again, and again, and again? How is that Wise, Nayru? How is that Courageous, Farore? How is that Powerful, Din?”

The Golden Goddesses did not respond, and in their silence, the Hero’s despair grew.

“The land, then,” Link replied, but the Hero scoffed.

“This land was created from the void, born wild, and was cultivated and corrupted. Perhaps it is time for it to become wild, and become a void, once more.”

“How can you say that, when there’s still so much beauty in this world, _in spite_ of the evil that would corrupt it?” Link’s grip on the Sword tightened. “There are good people who are hurting, and we can help. Isn’t that worth waking up for?”

The Hero stared at him without a light in his eyes. “Not anymore. Who do we have to fight for, if all will fall in time?"

“But for the Goddess!" Link's voice rose with his frustration. "She is always with us, and you heard her! The words nearly passed her lips. She’s saving them for us. She speaks to us in every breeze and every sunrise and every snowfall and every star—”

“And she will say it a thousand thousand times hence,” the Hero said, his voice a sigh. “What use is knowledge of her love if we are never allowed to love each other? We are a Knight, and she is our Goddess, duty-bound to this fight and suffocated by the weight of the burden we share.”

Link’s heart beat in his breast like the wings of a frightened bird. He had not known the depths of his own despondency, his fatigue—and despair. The monks were right. This soul was poisoned, weakened, broken, and he did not know if he were strong enough to withstand its gravitational pull.

“She continues to fight!” Link said desperately. “How can you despair when she gets back up, no matter how heavy the blow?”

“She could never disgrace her mothers by allowing herself to despair. She could never abandon her people.” The Hero _smiled_. “But we can. It would be so easy to sleep and never wake. To shed this burden, to be free of the shackles of fate once and for all. To be free of cursed hope—and to set her free, as well.”

“What about Fi? Our friend?”

The Hero stared at the blade. A small, weary laugh escaped his lips. “We are but a tool wielded by cosmic powers in a game we do not understand,” he said. The Divine Light did not fill up the Sword, here; it was just another weapon, a wicked edge to carve flesh from bone. “An arrow to be loosed; a blunt weapon against the forces of a Demon King not even of this realm—a target for hatred that should have been directed at them!”

 _“We are more!”_ Link cried. “You have proved that to the Goddesses, you have proved that to Hylia, why have you not proved that to yourself?”

“How can _you_ believe it yourself?” the Hero asked.

Link fell silent. What kind of answer could he give? He loved this Goddess, he had found reason to love her even when he had not known her. He believed in the Golden Goddesses, and he respected them…because Hylia did. Because he loved the land they had made. But he fought, today, for the chance to love his Goddess, the fierce and timid mortal girl, and the land he loved. A land he had hope for.

The soul before him was ruined, but Link had seen life in ruins before.

“You know what?” Link said suddenly. He drew the Sword, Divine Light and Sealing Power or not. “Give up, Hero. Rest eternal and remain deaf and dumb to the world as it goes by me. I don’t need any more strength than what I can achieve myself. I don’t need to remember all the skills of the Hero, all the adventures I’ve had. Our land is vast and filled with enough mysteries to discover for lifetimes to come. I don’t need to remember all the lives I’ve fought alongside her, because in this life, I’ll have the chance to do so again. That’s all that matters. Maybe we’re not more than flesh and blood and steel. But that’s enough. That's all I need."

Link did not spare the Hero another glance, and he turned back to the Deku Tree.

But the Deku Tree was not there.

There was only the Hero.

On his right arm hung a blue shield with the Hylian crest upon it: the red Loftwing and the Triforce above. In his left hand he wielded the Master Sword. Its blade shone like a star, restored to its full majesty. The golden light of the Goddesses shimmered under the skin on the back of his hand.

The Hero’s eyes were as ancient as the sky, with depths that rivaled the ocean. They were eyes that had witnessed miracles, the birth of worlds and the death of them, great horrors and wonders alike. They were eyes that knew despair.

They were eyes filled with hope.

And they were his.

 

_Open your eyes._

_Wake up, Link._


	39. Maw of Death Mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R

The Triforce didn’t glow under his skin, and the Sword did not sing, did not shine like a supernova plucked from the heavens and forged into steel. He did not recall every detail of his many lives—even his most recent life, one hundred years ago, remained little more than what the princess had left for him. But that was alright, because Link, the Hero, held no doubt, no despair, no Malice, in his heart.

The power of the Triforce wasn’t what Link needed in the battle ahead. The Sword would have the power it needed when it faced its sworn enemies. And he would remember what he needed to, in time.

Link opened his eyes and looked up at the moonlight that filtered through the treetops.

“I recognize you, Hero,” the Great Deku Tree said. “You have not stood before me with such strength in your spirit since our first meeting. What is it you plan now?”

“I will free Naboris and Rudania, and I will continue to seek the memories the princess left for me. And I will free Zelda.” Link sheathed the Master Sword. “I wish I knew how long we had.”

“Have faith,” the Deku Tree said. “You will know when the time comes.”

Link nodded, and he turned to step off the stone dais and take his leave. Every movement took a surprising amount of concentration. It was hard not to feel taller, longer—simply more—than he was now. He would need to practice much more, with the Sword, and remember what his true reach was.

What better way than to reclaim the Woodland Tower and the military training camp that surrounded it?

He rode Prayer out of the Forest and returned her to the nearest stable. It would be too dangerous for her to go near this enemy camp, and it was close enough to go on foot. Then, he would head directly for the Maw of Death Mountain, and that was certainly no place for horses.

Link approached the military training camp from the southwest. A moblin and two lizalfos guarded the west entrance and the smoking remains of a guardhouse—or they would have, if they were not asleep. The Sword Trials and his ensuing battle with his own soul had taken all day and cut deep into the night.

Fi sang softly on his back: a question.

 _I will strike,_ Link assured her.

He crept silently among the charred ruins and drew the Sword from its sheath.

 _Yum_ , Fi said as she sank her teeth into the flesh of a lizalfo. _I advise that you retrieve the tails._

 _Later!_ Link bit the tip of his tongue to remain silent as he approached the next sleeping foe. They had not heard their comrade fall in the night.

The moblin woke just as Link decapitated the last of the lizalfos, and it had picked up its spiked club before Link could stand. No matter. Link changed his grip so that he held the blade toward him. The movement felt familiar—a Sheikah technique.

Link spun so that the sword flew parallel to his outstretched leg. Fi cut through the moblin’s calves with ease. Just as the blade passed through the moblin’s second leg, Link stopped his spin and flipped the sword so that he could stab upward, under the moblin’s ribs and into the heart.

The Woodland Tower was surrounded by a bottomless bog, and the ‘fos and ‘bins had built precarious bridges and platforms within it. The wood creaked and shifted as Link made his way toward the first platform, and as he feared, it began to sink.

He used Cryonis with one hand to build himself a path to his goal. He sensed Fi’s awe at the technology.

An electric lizalfo lurked in the bog ahead of them; it randomly discharged its horn into the murky, thick waters. Link hopped onto the platform and moved to sheath the Sword and draw his bow. Fi grumbled a little.

“Don’t be jealous,” Link murmured, and he hit the lizalfo right in the forehead. It drowned as it sank, paralyzed by its own discharge.

He climbed his way higher and faced down several bokoblin archers. Some he shot down, but most he simply pushed off of their platforms and into the bog below.

A fire wizzrobe danced around the base of the tower on the southern side, but Link was out of ice arrows. He glided to the Tower while he tried to think of a strategy.

By the time he reached the first platform, Link had an idea. He reached deep into his pack and found the jiggling jellies he’d collected from chuchus, and he sorted out a handful of white ones from the Tabantha region. He only had a handful—and it was generous to call it a handful—but he hoped his aim would be good enough.

He took aim, and he threw.

The jelly exploded into powder the moment it hit the wizzrobe, and the wizzrobe disintegrated with it. The meteor rod it carried fell and disappeared into the bog, but Link did not miss it.

He finished clearing the camp after he received his map from the top of the Tower. He jumped down from the Tower and took out several red bokos with his arrows on the way down. He landed heavily on a wooden platform, sending the blue bokoblin that had been asleep on it flying up, up, and away.

Link continued on, relying onCryonis and Fi to finish the job.

He felt satisfied by his performance. He was still keenly aware of how tall he so often had been—and how short he was now—but this was _his_ body, he had been running around Hyrule in it for nearly a month, and for nearly two decades years prior.

Link sheathed Fi at last and swiped across to the map on his Sheikah Slate.

“Ready, Fi? This is really cool.”

He fast traveled to the Mo’a Keet Shrine in Akkala. The Spirit of the Sword was silent, self-conscious of itself.

Link snorted. It hardly mattered, for the Sheikah Slate was hardly a companion and while Link could always _walk_ places (or fly, or ride), he had few companions to choose from. The Slate was a nice piece of technology and certainly made life much easier, but now that the Sword was at his side again, Link wasn’t sure he could ever do without.

He hopped off the Travel Gate and passed Foothill Stable to rejoin the road.

Great steel beams—the remnants of a gate of some kind, perhaps—hung like stalactites from the red Eldin stone above him as he entered the Maw of Death Mountain. Hot springs began to bubble up around him, and just being in their presence brought sweat to his brow. It was going to be a long slog up the Mountain.

Fire chuchus were the least of his problems, but he had to admit that the things were more of an annoyance. They’d pop up nearly underfoot and to step on them or strike them was to become covered in their flaming, goopy insides.

But he was not above running.

He was quite relieved that he was not duty-bound to eradicate the Kingdom of all menaces, the way he would have been if he were still a Knight of the Crown. But he was not. He was merely the Knight of the Goddess, and his duty was to free the Divine Beasts for her. He felt no guilt in running.

He reached the base of Eldin Tower and encountered no difficulty climbing it. A head-start with Revali’s Gale was all that he needed, and on the way up he caught sight of something worrisome amid the magma.

“You ready for our first real trial?” he asked his Sword.

_We will not break!_

Link drank all of his first fireproof elixir and and glided toward the Guardian Stalker at Medingo Pool. If he needed to escape, he could just fast travel away, right?

The Guardian turned its eye to him just as he entered its airspace, and Link immediately stopped to fire an arrow into its eye. He knew what an ancient arrow could do—but that wasn’t the point.

When he landed, he rolled, stowed his bow, and drew Fi all in the span of a second. Her blade shone white, despite the red cast of nearby magma. She thrummed for a taste of Malice.

 _Legs,_ he thought.

_Focus your spirit! I will shoot them down!_

Link narrowed his eyes at the stunned Guardian and adjusted his grip on the hilt of the Sword. With one hand, he raised the blade and felt its drawn power from the aura and from him—and then he swung it down toward the legs of the Stalker. Fi’s sharp edge wailed through the air, and in its wake flew a blade of sacred light.

The beam cut through one of the Guardian’s legs in an instant. Sparks and ancient parts rained down from the wound, but the Guardian lost its balance only for a moment before its other legs caught it. And now it was aiming for him.

He and the Sword were indistinguishable as he ducked under the flailing, severed leg stump and severed its nearest neighbor in three swift blows. The motion carried him out from under the Guardian as it staggered, and he spun around to unleash another burst of sacred light from the Sword.

Link let loose a breathless cry and barreled toward the Guardian again, thwarting its attempt to put distance between it and the Blade of Evil’s Bane. Just as he reached it, the Stalker swung a leg at him from the side and caught him heavily in the side.

Link felt the crunch of his ribs with clarity, before the world became a blur of pain and charred flesh. The Guardian had caught it in its sights as he rolled, rag-doll, across the ground—and it had fired, and it had narrowly missed his vital bits. His shield was on fire, and his arm was burning with it.

Link staggered to his feet.

Was it time for an arrow? To end it?

“I got this!”

Link ran toward the Guardian again even as it charged its lasers. Just a few more legs would render it immobile, and each hit seemed to send the Guardian’s head spinning. If he could just reach it before it fired, he’d be safe.

He wasn’t sure how, but he time slowed for him in the same way that it did during flurry rushes and falling arrow strikes. In that slowed moment, his feet moved faster than he could have thought—and he severed not one but two legs before the window closed.

He was left breathless, but Fi urged him to stand. _No distance, no time,_ she said.

Link lifted the Sword in two hands and summoned the last of his energy to wail on the Guardian’s outer shell. It collapsed, the power to its legs shut off, and he raised his blade for the final strike.

It cracked the glass of the Guardian’s eye and sank deep into the mechanisms of its brain.

The explosion threw Link back several feet, but thankfully nowhere near the magma. He lay there, baking against the ground, as he tried to catch his breath.

 _Master_ , Fi called urgently. _Your elixir will fade in thirty seconds._

Without raising hismelf up to look, Link fished around in his pack and uncorked another elixir. He poured it with shaking hands into his mouth and sighed as the cooling magic spread from his belly to his skin.

_Master, you are also hurt. There is a ninety-three percent chance that you have broken not one but two of your ribs on the right side. You have sustained first-degree burns on your arm._

“Alright,” he said. His throat was dry despite the elixir, and his lips were cracked like the stones around him. “I think it’s breakfast, anyway.”

He pulled himself up painstakingly and gasped for breath once he was upright. He was _one-hundred percent_ sure that he had broken his ribs.

Nothing hearty foods wouldn’t help with.

He ate his meal among the Guardian debris and washed it down with water from his skein. It nearly evaporated before it passed his lips, but he was refreshed by it regardless. Then he gathered up the remains of the Guardian and dragged himself along the path to Goron City.

In the Southern Mine he met a friendly Goron sitting beside a cooking pot who waved him over. “I always tell travelers to take the time to brew one more fireproof elixir here, just in case. Never hurts!”

“Thank you,” Link said. “I think I will take your advice. What’s your name?”

“Grayson, brother! I don’t like repeating myself, though, so just remember that. Okay?”

Link grinned at him. He couldn’t help it. He suddenly felt quite light despite his earlier fatigue. “Grayson, do you enjoy your work here in the mines?”

It was clear, immediately, that Grayson had been waiting for someone to talk to about this very subject—perhaps for quite a while. “I dig and dig and dig and dig… I feel like…maybe I’m not meant to toil away in obscurity like this. Is there a job out there for me that’d let me use my strength to make a difference?”

“Actually…”

Link explained the concept of Tarrey Town and watched Grayson’s beady black eyes light up. “You say it’s directly east of here, in a lake? Well… then I should head there right away! My last shift ended for the day, anyway!”

It was much easier to climb Death Mountain with fresh elixirs and renewed hope that the insane, hopeful project of his would work.

He followed signs for Goron City, but he found that as he came closer, the dangers only increased. Soon giant balls of volcanic rock were falling from the sky above him and forced him to take shelter under an outcropping—wasting precious time for his elixir.

Even from his vantage point, he saw the salamander of Akkala, Vah Rudania, climbing the side of Death Mountain like a common garden lizard, and its might steps seemed to rouse the volcano into another assault.

But Goron City was close enough to hear its din, and Link was running low on this elixir. So he gathered up his courage, and he ran.


	40. The Goron Champion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R.

He beat the barrage of fireballs and reached Goron City and immediately made his way to the armor shop. “Do you—”

The Goron burst out laughing and gestured at the wall. Many sets of bulky armor hung on the walls. “Fire-resistant armor crafted by Gorons for Hylians curious enough to visit our city!” said the shopkeeper.

“How many pieces do I need?”

“Well, if you don’t mind the smell, you could probably do without the helmet,” the Goron said thoughtfully. “Most of you Hylians take offense to the smell of burning flesh!”

Link blinked at him, then tossed a handful of rupees at the Goron and snatched a cuirass that seemed to be his size. He wasn’t bothered stripping in front of the Goron, because he certainly did not expect the rock people to make unsolicited comments about how _handsome_ he was. They didn’t even have remotely the same anatomy. How would they know what to comment on?

He felt slightly less ready to burst into flame now that he wore the armor, but he certainly did not feel any cooler or more comfortable. He understood why some Hylians he saw preferred to use fire elixirs.

This was going to be quite unpleasant.

Of all the people he could have run into, Pikango was the least expected. “Haven’t decided what to paint, yet,” the artist said. “It’s a little more difficult than I expected—my easel caught fire just from the ambient heat, and I’m afraid that if it weren’t for the fact that my paintbrushes are held in a metal container, they’d have lit up too!”

“This armor isn’t very majestic, but it works,” Link said helpfully.

“But I don’t think I could paint in it,” Pikango sighed. “I don’t think I’ll stay long, but do you have any new mystery spots you’d like to show me?”

Link took out a photo of a red cliff face and Hyrule Castle. “I’m not familiar with this view. It has the forest in it, too, so I imagine it’s on the west side of Death Mountain…somewhere.”

Pikango peered closely at the photo. “I believe if you head straight north of the Woodland Stable, you might find such an incredible view.”

Relief flooded through Link, though he was a bit frustrated that he’d have to retrace his steps. _Well, I’ll have to go that way to find Naboris…_

“Thank you, Pikango. Do you know where the Goron leader resides?”

The Sheikah artist directed him to the top of the city, and Link ran, his footsteps clunking heavily in the flamebreaker armor. He found the Goron Elder staring up at the mountain, quite unaware of his approach.

“Drat!” the Elder exclaimed.”Blasted worm!”

“What’s wrong?” Link asked.

The Goron hardly looked at him. “Death Mountain’s eruptions have gotten real bad. They say that one hundred years ago, that there salamander actually protected our people from harm…but that was then, and this is now! All it does is mess up our mining operations! We’re all suffering because it’s holding up all of our business!”

The Goron Elder rounded on Link and nearly crashed into him with his massive fists. “I can’t tell ya how many times we’ve used the cannon to chase off that fiend! _But it always comes back!”_

A mighty crunch, one that rivaled the sound of Link’s ribs breaking, emanated from the Elder’s body, and his eyes—well, eye. One was covered with an eye patch. _Like a pirate,_ Link recalled distantly—widened in pain. ”Youuuuuch…. Owwwowow.”

“Are you okay?”

“Just some back pain…wait, who are you?”

“I came here—”

“—all this way to pay respects to me? I like you already, brother!”

Link blinked at the Elder and swallowed a smile. Sure. That worked.

“Well, I’m the great Goron Boss, Bludo, who’s fearsome enough to silence a crying child!or to make a silenced child cry…either way! Fearsome, brother, fearsome! Anyway. I was plannin’ to drive off Rudania like I always do, but this blasted pain in my back falred up outta nowhere… That blasted Yunobo, I tell you. When will he return?”

“Where did he go?” Link asked. His voice came out perhaps his little too demanding, for Bludo narrowed his eyes and clenched its fists.

“He went to grab some painkillers for my back from the abandoned North Mine, but he hasn’t come back yet…” Link let out the breath he had been holding. Bludo’s annoyance wasn’t at his tone, after all. “He’s such a slacker, probably off somewhere wasting time… Ungh! Ouch!”

Pikango waved Link down, and he excused himself from his conversation with Bludo.

“You know, that picture of yours really inspired me,” Pikango said. “I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me in search of it? Get out of this fiery place for a little?"

Link hesitated and cast a glance back at Vah Rudania on the mountain. “It is dangerous to go alone,” he told Pikango. “I’ll get you there.”

 

He accompanied Pikango nearly all the way back to Medingo Pool. The scorched remnants of his battle with the Guardian were all that remained of the danger, but they avoided it nonetheless. They left the path just where it curved between Goronbi Lake and the pool, and they passed under the Eldin Tower as they picked their way around giant spires of volcanic rock.

“No, this isn’t it,” Pikango muttered when they came to a particular cliff. “But we’re getting close, I’m sure!”

“Pikango,” Link murmured. “This is it. The Towers hadn’t awakened yet when this picture was taken.”

 

_The smell of blood and death and refuse filled his nostrils. The smells didn’t necessarily bother him—he was an experienced knight, after all—but he felt ashamed to have exposed the princess to such ugliness._

_She did not seem to mind, however._

_“That cut doesn’t look too bad, actually!”_

_Her hands were on him. This was different._

_That’s about all he could process, for though he was not hurt by any stretch of the imagination, he had certainly been frightened beyond anything he had ever experienced. His heart still felt like it were going to give up at any moment. This had been the closest call yet…but tell that to her._

_“You’re fine for now,” she proclaimed, and she released his arm. It was always his shield arm that was injured; he had always been more proficient at execution than protection._

_“You know, there’s a fine line between courage and recklessness.”_

How wise, _he thought to himself wryly, but he swallowed his sarcastic comment. His courage had left him, for her face was all too near to his. Her green eyes were placid and without fear, and they seemed firmly locked on his._

_“As brave as you are, that does not make you immortal.”_

_She shifted so that she was no longer kneeling beside him, yet she was still close enough now that their shoulders nearly touched. He could hardly move his eyes from her face, but he reluctantly followed her gaze to look out at the carnage. He had lost track of how many white-maned Lynels had surrounded them, and he certainly hadn’t kept track of the bokoblins—little menaces—but they were all slain and scattered across the ravine._

_“It seems that, not only is the frequency of these types of attacks on the rise…but the scale of beasts we are facing is intensifying as well.”_

_Zelda raised a hand to her heart, and she bent forward, a pang of grief clearly lancing through her. “I fear that…that this is an omen which portends the return of Calamity Ganon.”_

_But she put on her brave face again—as she called it. She had told him, recently, that she was done being afraid. Perhaps it was time to face her fate with Courage, like he did._

_He had not had the heart to tell her the truth._

_“If that’s the case,” she said, standing and swiping dust from the back of her thighs, “I’m ready to expect the worst.”_

_He met her gaze, concern and questions on his lips, but she spoke first._

_“Let’s make preparations as soon as possible.”_

_Link stood, but she had already turned to delicately pick her way through the battlefield._

_He would tell her later, that one needn’t expect the worst in order to prepare for it. There was virtue to be had in hoping for the best_.

 

Link said goodbye to Pikango and, without regard for the kind of rumors he’d certainly start, used Revali’s Gale to get him out of there.

It was nearly impossible to land over the hot air masses in the Eldin region, especially over open pools of magma, but there was a Shrine and Link nearly salivated at the thought of the cool air that waited inside for him. He snapped the paraglider closed before he could get too close to the magma and landed on Qua Raym’s Travel Gate. The amber inlays glowed just like the lava nearby.

He sucked in greedy breaths of the cool air as he looked around the Balanced Approach Trial and laid out his strategy.

It turned out to be less of a strategy to win the Spirit Orb and more of a peaceful stroll through every corner of the Shrine. It was beautifully laid out, and he appreciated the feat of engineering that had to have gone into it. He took several pictures for Zelda before he left.

It hadn’t been an _important_ memory the way the Lanayru memory had been so vitally important to his story—his history. But it vital to him.

He did not immediately return to Goron City and instead warped to Zora’s Domain to purchase as many ice arrows as he could. If they didn’t melt, they could come in quite handy. The shopkeeper was quite offended by the smell of burnt metal that he brought with him, but rupees are rupees.

When he returned to Goron City, he remembered to find the Shrine that would undoubtedly be nearby. The Slate led him upward, out of the City and further northwest to the Shae Mo’sah Shrine.

Link laughed again at the amount of arson the monks seemed to think he’d need to practice to be a fully-realized Hero. He appreciated the Stone Smasher and ruby he received for his efforts. And more—free—ice arrows.

The moment he exited the Shrine, he remembered just how much he despised octoroks. The boulder hit him square in the chest and sent him flying right back into the alcove of the Shrine. Fortunately the flamebreaker armor was sturdy and metal, and he wasn’t immediately crushed, but it took him a moment to regain his breath.

His revenge was swift and merciless: he chucked a bomb right into the ocotorok’s mouth.

He stalked down the path to the abandoned North Mine and found it guarded by a very tired looking Goron.

“I’m looking for Yunobo,” Link said before the guard could tell him to scram. “Boss wants to know.”

“HUH?!” The Goron’s eyes grew wide. “Boss sent a stranger like you to find Yunobo?! Well…now that you mention it, I suppoooooooose he never came back. But this place is daaaaangerous, so ya probably shouldn’t go lookin’ for him. It gets a lot hotter, and there’s looooots of monsters.”

Link drew the Master Sword and pushed past the Goron.

“Not for long,” he said.

The air itself burned, and every breath was difficult. Battling in this would be difficult, too—but Link spied a cannon, and the strategist in him rejoiced upon finding several cannons laid out across the mine.

Link pumped Sheikah bomb after Sheikah bomb through the cannons and eradicated the lizal camps despite the Goron guard’s protests. He soon left the guard behind and ran from island to island, scavenging ores and metal weapons left behind by the lizalfos.

 _Your paraglider has a strong enchantment on it,_ Fi said _. I believe you may be able to use it despite its wooden construction._

“Perfect.”

He rode the thermal vents along now, alternating between cannons and his arrows—which immediately ignited when they left his quiver—and the conveniently placed cannons.

He finally reached the blocked mouth of the cave that Yunobo was trapped in. Link withdrew to the nearest cannon, and that was quickly remedied.

Link was not prepared, when he ran into the cave, to see Champion’s blue.

The little Goron boy screamed when he entered, and Link shouted hoarsely for him to calm the _fuck_ down.

“Whoa, you’re a Hylian!” the Goron exclaimed. “Were you the one who broke through that crag to rescue me, goro? Thanks, brother!”

“Boss told me to find you,” Link said.

“How did you break the rocks at the entrance, goro?”

“With a cannon.”

Yunobo gasped and covered his face. “Boss’s cannon?! That thing is so difficult to use! I thought only the Boss could use it!”

Link shrugged. “I came here to defeat Vah Rudania, and I’ll need your help. But Yunobo, I think your Boss needs those painkillers.”

“Sorry, you’re right! But do come by and see Boss later, okay? He may be gruff, but he always repays a favor.”

Link let the Goron roll off ahead so that he could scavenge stuff from the ice room. It wasn’t very cold at all, but compared to the rest of Death Mountain perhaps it could be described as balmy. He found some rupees and ice arrows before he teleported back to the Shrine and Goron City.

“Tiny traveler!” Bludo cried. “Hylians like you need this sort of thing, right? Take it as a reward for helping Yunobo!”

Link winced as the Boss’s shouts drew eyes from all across the City, but he accepted the fireproof elixirs anyway. He might need them still, should he require to change into different armor during his fight on the Divine Beast…

“I mean no disrespect to Daruk’s legacy, but if I’m not there to give that Rudania a good walloping—”

The name stirred something deep in Link’s mind, but it wasn’t quite a memory. _The Goron Champion, maybe?_ he wondered.

“What’s with that look on your face? Are ya really tellin’ me ya don’t now about Daruk? The Goron Champion?! He’s carved into our very City, he was such a great brother!”

Link’s neck nearly cracked as he whipped around to observe that, indeed, a giant, bearded Goron face was carved into the rock wall that surrounded Goron City. How had he missed that? He hadn’t even noticed the other Gorons who’d been carved beneath him, looking up at their idol….

He gasped.

Rudania was screaming.

  
_“I tell you what…sure is a blast piloting a toy like this around!” Daruk stretched and flexed his muscles—boulders? stones? Link still wasn’t sure how to describe Gorons, despite knowing them for so long—and then rounded on Link, pride in his eyes. “Let those other Champions know: they better eat their gravel if they wanna keep up with Daruk!”_

_Link blinked at the Goron slowly. Link wasn’t going to tell him that Urbosa had mastered her Divine Beast in but a few hours; he felt like there was something other than pride motivating the Goron’s speech, and he didn’t want to shatter the poor guy if he was already feeling unsure._

_“Speaking of which, can you believe this view? Just look at all those delectable rocks sprinkled on those mountains… I may not know a whole lot about this Calamity Ganon thing, but mark my words, I’ll protect this land of ours to death! Right, little guy?!”_

_Link had not expected the sudden blow to his back. What had Daruk used, a cobble crusher?! He stumbled forward, clutching the base of his spine where his vertebrae were complaining loudly at the treatment._

_Daruk waddled over, seemingly unaware of Link’s breathlessness. “Hey, by the way…congrats on becoming the princess’s appoint knight. That’s a really big deal! Protecting the king’s daughter… no pressure!”_

_Link did not laugh with his friend. He had been finding it harder and harder to laugh in the days since he had drawn the Sword and the full weight of destiny hung itself conveniently on his back. Daruk seemed to sense that his humor hadn’t landed; maybe he saw the dark look in Link’s eyes, or maybe he still hadn’t gotten used to the boy’s silence._

_“Seriously though, the princess is a strong personality…she can’t quite see the range for the peaks. Remember that, and you’ll be fine.”_

_Link nearly laughed at_ that _._

_The world suddenly began to shake. Link braced himself and looked around for the cause. A stampede of Lynels? He had already been caught in one of those—_

_Daruk rounded, with a roar, and brought his fists up to meet a giant volcanic rock fist-first. The resulting explosion of dust and debris blinded Link, but he still saw the glowing shield of magma magic that had flickered into existence around Daruk._

_The Goron bent forward, and for a moment Link thought he was tired, perhaps, from his show of strength. But when he turned, Link saw a hung of rock in his hand. Daruk had spied lunch._

_“Alright…what was I saying…?” Daruk’s voice was more preoccupied than Link had ever heard it. That landslide, or whatever had sent those boulders toward them, had frightened the Goron._

_“As far as I know, Death Mountain has been quiet for decades.” They looked up at the peak together, and Link’s breath caught in his throat. He had known his princess was right, that they had been awakened together because it was nearly time for their destiny to be realized—but the world around them seemed to be waking, too. “If the mountain is shivering enough to send down a bunch of boulders that size, then—” Link looked at Daruk sharply, and the Goron looked away. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”_

_But concern graced the Goron’s crevassed brow, and neither could escape it._


	41. Daruk's Protection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R.

“Don’t you see the resemblance in Yunobo?” Bludo asked. Link wasn’t paying attention, but it didn’t seem to bother the Boss. “Yunobo is actually a descendant of the great Daruk! That’s why the slacker carries the Champion’s blessing, Daruk’s Protection. It’s the only way we can chase the blasted beast away: Yunobo uses it to protect himself when we fire him at Rudania. Normal cannonballs are no good against him.”

“Boss,” Link began, but he was interrupted by the Goron’s loud groans. Apparently the pain killers hadn’t been enough today.

“I hate to put you on the spot, but can ya please go tell Yunobo that I’m gonna have to cancel for today?”

Link set his jaw. Perhaps he needn’t be so upfront about his intentions. After all, his business was apparently with Yunobo anyway. Link nodded at the Boss.

“He should be at Eldin Bridge. I’m going to go to the hot springs and rest. You should join me there, sometime, traveler!”

 

_Master, are you prepared?_

Link tried to convince Fi, without sounding prideful, that he had this covered. He was more worried about navigating the mountain outside of the Divine Beast than what lay in wait for him inside.

Like octoroks. There were way too many octoroks on Death Mountain, in Link’s opinion.

He crossed the Stolock Bridge and, despite the fact that it was made of metal, he did not feel much safer than he did on any other cobbled-together bridge in Hyrule. He passed by hot springs, which were a beautiful and enticing cerulean blue. He didn’t stop to enjoy them, however, because there were more octoroks ahead.

And lizalfos. Wonderful.

A Shrine called out to his Slate near the Eldin Bridge, so he stopped for a cool down with Daqa Koh.

He was quite fascinated by the electric mechanism in the trial, but he didn’t want to _stall_. He used Stasis to complete the Stalled Flight trial, then continued on his journey to the bridge.

Where he found Yunobo surrounded by moblins.

They were armed with great mining drillshafts, which Link collected immediately, along with the moblin parts—which had begun to smoke. Yunobo cheered wildly for him as he approached.

“Boss isn’t coming,” Link said. “He sent me to help out. I know how to use the cannons.”

“After we went through all that trouble getting them, the painkillers didn’t even end up working!” Yunobo clutched his head in despair. “Poor Boss, goro! But why would you volunteer to come here?”

“I want to board Rudania.”

“WHAT?! You’re gonna try to board the Divine Beast? Does Boss know that’s why you came, goro? Who do you think you are… Lord Daruk? It’s dangerous in there, goro!”

Link put his hands on his hips. “I have calmed two other Divine Beasts. It is dangerous inside, but that’s my problem. Will you help me get close enough to it?”

Yunobo blinked at him and wrung his hands before him. “Weeell… I don’t really get it, but I’m sure you have your reasons, goro… The problem is, good ol’ Boss raised the Bridge of Eldin to make sure that mean Divine Beast couldn’t get over here. In order to get close to Rudania, we’ll have to find a way to get the Bridge of Eldin back down without the boss, goro.”

“We can shoot that down,” Link said after a single glance at the bridge.

“YOU know how to use the cannons! Yes, goro! That means I’m going to be the cannonball! And you’ll launch me, goro!”

Link thought that of all the insane things he had seen and done so far, this was possibly the craziest.

 _Is he insane?!_ Fi hissed.  _The odds that he would survive such an impact—_

Link bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Are you  _sure?"_

That magma shield flickered into view around Yunobo, and Link had to admit that he was impressed by how easy it was for the Goron to summon Daruk’s Protection.

“My ancestor’s help can’t possibly fail me! So rest easy, got it?”

Link nodded and hopped to the lever behind the canon. With one hit with his newly acquired drillshaft, the cannon began its slow sweep toward the Bridge.

“Fire away!” Yunobo cried, and he spun into his ball at the mouth of the cannon. Link felt a little bad putting a bomb right by Yunobo’s back, but when the Bridge came down, Link felt no remorse.

Yunobo rolled back across the Bridge and stood, beaming at his success—though obviously a little woozy from the impact. “See that, goro… If we put our heads together…anything is possible!”

“And so it begins,” Link warned Fi.

“What was that?” asked Yunobo.

“Nothing. Come.” Link and Yunobo crossed the Bridge and looked up at the giant Divine Beast that scaled the mountain right above him. When it sensed Link’s presence, the Divine Beast opened its shoulder chambers and several winged Guardians flew out.

“Yikes!” Yunobo cringed beside Link.”A sentry is always a nuisance, no matter where it is or how many there are. If one finds you, Rudania will go nuts, which will cause Death Mountain to erupt, goro.”

Link drew the Master Sword; it had sensed the Malice and flared up with its hunger. “I’ll go on a little ahead and get rid of them before they can spot us, Yunobo. Do you have a signal I can give you to let you know when to stop and hide and when to run toward me?”

“What about a sneaky wink!”

Link stared at Yunobo blankly. “What if you’re hiding and can’t see it?” he asked delicately.

The Goron nodded. “You’re right, you’re right…” He scratched his head in thought.

“How about this?” Link pursed his lips together and let out one shrill whistle, like steam screaming from a kettle. “I’ll do it twice each time, so you know for sure.”

“A whistle! Ah, that’s a great idea, goro!” Yunobo deflated a little. “Even though it’s kinda like calling a horse, goro…”

Link ignored the Goron child’s last comment and set off for the mountain.

The first sentry flew a path that had plenty of places to hide, but the second had stationed itself quite strategically over a narrow and uncovered path. Link whistled sharply for Yunobo stop, and he scaled the nearest wall to get a good vantage point over the Guardian Sentry.

He focused his spirit, as Fi had directed, and channeled it out into a beam that would slice off the Sentry’s propeller blades; he had hoped it would just fall from the air and explode on impact, but the force of the beam seemed enough. The Sentry detonated before it even hit the ground.

Link jumped from the cliff and landed amid a rain of ancient parts. He whistled as he picked them up, and he and his companion continued on.

“That’s the first cannon!” Yunobo cried. “Hurry, Rudania is on this side of the mountain!”

He had jumped into the cannon without question, and Link shot him out at Rudania. Link set off at a run before Yunobo had returned, and he made use of the time in which Rudania threw its tantrum to make some progress on the net few Sentries.

Giant, abandoned boxes of ore scattered the desolate landscape, and they were magnetic and incredibly useful for bashing Senries down out of the air. Yunobo returned just as Link stumbled across some precious stone deposits.

“You’re stopping to eat _here?"_  Yunobo asked, horrified. Link raised his eyebrows at that and tossed him a hunk of amber, while pocketing a diamond, a ruby, a sapphire—and an ancient gear he had missed during his first pass.

They had to kill a moblin to get to the next cannon, but Fi took care of it quickly. This time, when Yunobo hit the Divine Beast, the angered salamander retreated up toward the peak of the mountain.

Many more Sentries guarded the path to the next cannon, and Yunobo returned in time to watch Link dispatch all of them with a combination of bombs and Magnesis.

“Wow!” was all the young Goron could say when he caught up.

Link nearly didn’t see the moblins , but Yunobo’s screams alerted him to the danger soon enough. Fi made quick work of them, and this time, when Yunobo struck Rudania, the lizard retreated directly to the top of the volcano and dove right into the magma.

Yuonobo didn’t immediately return, and Link cursed himself for killing Daruk’s great-grandchild, or whatever Yunobo was. _How am I going to tell him that?_

_Look!_

Fi directed his attention upward, and he saw the silhouette of a Goron climb out of the mouth of the volcano. Link hurried to meet him.

“You really put a licking on that thing, Link!” The kid turned to him as he approached. “It’s time to finish the job! This is our big chance!”

Link took a deep breath of the scalding air and grimaced as his throat became lined with ash. Then, without waiting another second, he dove head-first off the edge of the cliff.

 

From aboard the Divine Beast, the magma wasn’t so bright or so hot at all.

_Hey, little guy! Long time no see._

Link couldn’t help but look around for Daruk, despite the fact that his voice came from all around, and that his spirit was still trapped in the console of the Divine Beast.

_I always knew you’d come back. Y’know, I never stopped believing in you!_

Link had no words for Daruk, but the Goron always reacted more strongly to actions, anyway. He clapped one fist to his breast in thanks.

_So you’re here to take control of ol’ Rudania, eh? Well, there’s a map that shows the guts of this place, so get a move on!_

Link dove into the Divine Beast—and immediately went blind.

He could see naught but the glow of treasure chests and Malicious Eyes. Fi made quick work of them all, and her light led him to various unlit torches scattered around the first chamber of the Divine Beast.

 _Guardian in the next room,_ she hummed as one of the blue-flame torches triggered the opening of a door. Link could hear, more than see, the crab-like robot, but Fi’s will drew his arm where it needed to go, and the blow struck the Guardian right in its eye. Crippled, it stood no chance against him now.

He finally reached the Guidance Stone and received the map of the lizard. There were two points of control—and a trigger for the lights. He opened up the ceiling of the Divine Beast and blinked in the sudden light.

_Nice work, little guy!_

This place was full of Malicious eyes, and Link took care of them before even attempting to reach the next terminals. The first two were fairly easy to reach, but the third was hidden behind a wall of flames.

He found a giant metal block inside a hidden chamber and moved it to block the flames just enough that he could squeeze through. The metal heated up quickly and it scaled him when he passed by.

As soon as he activated the terminal, however, the flames shut off, and he kicked the damn block out of the way.

He had to rotate Rudania completely sideways to reach the last two terminals—and he had to climb outside the Divine Beast in order to get the fourth terminal and remove a blockage from a Sheikah orb caught in Malice outside. It drew him back inside to ensure the orb made it into the lock, and then Daruk directed him to the main control unit on Rudania’s shoulder.

He paused to drink a mighty elixir and ate a hearty rice ball just for the satisfaction.

_Stay focused, little guy!_

Link sighed. _Focus_ , he repeated, and he drew himself up to search for the control unit.

Fi trilled as he neared it.

_Master, I sense a great evil…_

“I’m going to call it the Fireblight,” Link said, and he deactivated his Guardian shield for a moment so that he could use his right hand to activate the Sheikah pedestal. “You ready?”

The Fireblight had a short battle axe for its right arm and a fireball in its left.

 _Watch yourself now!_ Daruk roared. _That ugly pain in the crag is Ganon’s handiwork. Thing got the best of me a hundred years ago._

Link blinked as a shower of embers rained down on his head from the Fireblight’s shrieking mouth. The golem was certainly larger than the others, wasn’t it?

_Good luck, little brother! Go get ‘im!_

Link shot an ice arrow right into the monster’s eye, and the thing collapsed with a hiss like water skittering across a hot skillet. A giant shard of ice protruded from its eye, and Link quickly took care of _that_ by introducing Fi to its face.

When it showed signs of resistance, Link’s body moved of its own accord: he rolled backward and popped up, his arm already moving to charge the Fireblight with a barrage of sacred light from the blade of his Sword.

It withdrew, screaming to wake the legions of hell, and threw out its arm in defiance of his stare. The flames in its hand grew wilder, and the Fireblight ran them along the edge of its blade arm until the blue Sheikah technology glowed white-hot.

That wasn’t what worried Link.

When the Fireblight threw out its flaming arms and roared at him once more, it summoned a giant ball of magma, so similar to Daruk’s protection, to surround it.

 _That flaming ball is dangerous,_ Daruk warned. _When he starts charging his eruption, there’s no stopping him!_

“Oh yeah?” Link ground out from between his teeth. He opened his Sheikah Slate and followed the Fireblight with his eyes. Sure enough, when the golem tried to suck all the air toward it to charge up an explosion, it seemed happy to take Link’s bombs with it.

They discharged right in its face, and Link did not waste the opportunity to gloat—to the spirit of the Champion, or to the spirit of his own Sword, who were both in shock.

Fi wailed as she cut into stone and Malice. _Master!_ she cried.

He did not speak to her so much as throw emotions at her: it was alright, he understood that she was not made to break boulders. While the Fireblight was down, he tossed away his shield, switched the Master Sword to his right hand, and drew a one-handed Guardian sword for his left.

The Fireblight nearly wrenched the Sword from his hand as it tossed him across the arena, but Link clung to it tight and flipped, head over heels, arms spread wide to keep both blades from harming himself.

He could sense the Fireblight’s desperation as it charged up another blast. Link dropped the Guardian sword long enough to chuck another bomb at it, and when the Fireblight fell it didn’t stay down for long. It began to charge its laser eye, and that was when Link knew that the battle was his.

He charged the golem, and he unleashed a rain of blows so furious that it left him shaking—and left the shards of his Guardian sword embedded deep within the Fireblight’s gooey, Malicious chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link's really getting the hang of this hero business, isn't he?


	42. Dry Heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R

Link collapsed under the fountain of Malice. It filled his throat and his lungs, and it raged against the very presence of his Sword. This was different than the others, who had disintegrated moments after death. There was something desperately trying to hold on to its claim to the Divine Beast—and its claim to his soul.

Link screamed against the onslaught. His voice was hoarse and broken, but he would be damned if he were to drown in this shit when he’d worked so hard to throw off the mantle of despair and evil that had held him down, had suffocated the Hero.

 _Din, help me overcome this,_ he prayed, and he summoned the will to stand.

Din did not respond, but when Link got to his feet, he felt an immense Power flood his body, his soul. It burned away the Malice that clung to his armor and his skin, and it threw off the Shade that remained of Ganon’s Blight.

Like that, the Demon was banished from Vah Rudania, and in his absence, the presence of the Goddess flooded in.

Link felt strength return to him as she granted him the life force Ganon had stolen from Daruk, and her pride in him enhanced his being even more. He wiped sweat from his brow and shook ash from the blade of the Sword before sheathing it.

 _We will not break,_ he reminded it, and Fi relaxed.

He went to the console and activated it. He was looking forward to seeing Daruk again.

“Great work, little guy!”

The Goron Champion had his arms spread wide as though he wanted to hug Link. Despite how strong he felt from the Goddesses’ blessings, he was certain his spine wasn’t strong enough to handle _that_ , so Link stayed where he was and hoped Daruk wouldn’t take offense.

“I owe you big for this. Because of you, my spirit is finally free. Can’t thank you enough!” Daruk scratched his head a little sheepishly. “I feel like I should apologize. I was doing all I could to protect Hyrule when that thing got the best of me. Sorry that me resting with the rubble caused such a mess!”

Link looked up at Daruk, his jaw set. “Let’s not dwell on the past, Daruk. The future is ours.”

A wide grin split the Goron’s face. “Yes! Rudania is now back under our control, and our century-old Ganon beat-down plan can finally go into effect!”

Link nodded firmly.

“I’m gonna take this down the mountain. I’ll have a better shot at Ganon there. And then, once you’ve made your way into Hyrule Castle, we’re gonna light that thing up!”

The two of them pounded their fists into their palms in unison; the movement came easily to Link, as though he had done it often in the past, and Daruk beamed at him at the sight.

“I want to give you something. It’s a special power of mine called Daruk’s Protection. It’s no good to me now that I’m a spirit…but it might be useful to you. Here it comes!”

Flames licked at his feet and his face, coursed up his arms and flared up into the sky as Daruk passed on his blessing. Link repeated the motion he had just remembered—fist into palm—and the lava magic flared up around him in a protective sphere, just as it had for Daruk.

“For this moment forth,” Daruk proclaimed, “the power of protection, from the depths of my soul, now lives inside you.”

The Goddess was calling the both of them; it was time for Link to go. He felt her gentle push as he began to float away on the wind as sparks of divine light.

“Good luck, little guy!” Daruk cried. “And give my regards to the princess.”

 

Rudania’s head had opened like a flower as it took aim at Hyrule Castle, waiting for the perfect shot. The Gorons below were freaking out, to say the least—Yunobo was nowhere to be found, and Bludo was throwing a tantrum over the spectacle that the City had just witnessed on the side of the mountain.

Link tried to calm Bludo, seeing as how Rudania was certainly calm, now.

“You really are something else, brother,” Bludo grumbled. “I can’t believe you conquered Rudania… Color me impressed. But good grief…did ya have to do it just when my back pain went away? I was all ready and rarin’ to go at Rudania mysel!”

Link positively guffawed. He couldn’t help it.

“Now they’re accusin’ me about fibbin’ about my back pain this whole time! Imagine that! ME!”

Link wondered who would dare accuse Bludo of such a thing. Bludo’s laughter joined his own.

“But enough… There’s some treasure in my hut, and I’d like you to have it, brother. Grab it. Keep it. It’s yours.” Bludo gestured at his hut. “It’s a sharp blade that Daruk himself wielded. I’m sure you’ll be able to make good use of it!” He turned back to Link. “Well, you do seem to have a mighty fine blade yourself.”

Bludo squinted with his one eye, and Link felt heat rising in his cheeks that wasn’t from standing on an active volcano. “Come to think of it…” He pounded one fist into the ground. “You look _just like_ the Hylian Champion who fought the Calamity alongside Daruk!”

“I get that a lot,” Link said, and politely fled the conversation.

 

Daruk’s sword, Boulder Breaker, was far too heavy to use as a weapon, even if Link had wanted to. So instead of trying to lift it, Link simply held it tight and fast traveled to his home in Hateno. He’d still have to drag it from the Shrine to his house, but it was much better than trying to get it down the side of Death Mountain.

Link slept through the commotion of Bolson putting together a new weapon mount downstairs. Fi slept and recovered in her sheath at his bedside, and Link had decided he’d try and take it easy until she was ready again. When he woke, Link went to Purah to finally upgrade the rest of his runes.

He was lucky she was an early riser, for it seemed that most of the town—barring Bolson—didn’t come awake ‘til noon. But she was incredibly happy to see him and look at the pictures he’d taken on the Slate, and he had to pry it out of her hands to get her to stop _ooh_ -ing and _aaahh_ -ing over the ancient technology and magic used to create the Shrines.

He had hoped to bring a horse with him as he ventured south, but after a short conversation with Symin he was quickly convinced out of it. He had thought the desert would lie to the southeast, for some reason, but since he would have the easiest time reaching it if he attacked from the southwest, it made more sense to head to the top of Mount Hylia and glide down from there.

He sold a fair amount of his ores and fireproof meals and elixirs—he wouldn’t need them where he was going—and spent the day cooking.

With Boulder Breaker safely hung on the wall of his home beside Mipha’s trident and Revali’s bow, Link shut the door and locked it. He hid the Master Sword under his cloak, for Bolson and his construction crew sat around the fire outside. Link had graciously invited them to use it whenever they wanted to get away from their work and their families in town. They cheered as he approached, drunk again.

He turned down a mug of some frothy brew and put his hands on his hips. “I was too tired to remember, earlier,” he told them, “but I ran into Hudson in Akkala. He’s starting a whole town, from the ground up.”

“Wonderful!” Bolson cried. “What will he name it?”

“Tarrey Tow—”

“Hmph!” Bolson sniffed daintily, quite unpleased. “Some contractor he is, can’t even read the rules for—”

“It’s for the names of people, boss,” said Karson. “Not towns. If you want, we can write that into next season’s bylaws.”

Link chuckled and went 'round his house to get out his Slate.

He fast-traveled to Keh Namut on the Great Plateau and jumped off the nearest cliff just as the sun reached its highest point in the sky.

 _The desert’s temperature drops rapidly after sundown, Master,_ Fi murmured sleepily as he flew into a narrow canyon lined with bokoblin camps and abandoned walkways along the walls. _Will you be prepared for such an environment?_

“Got Rito down for a reason,” Link assured her.

His Slate went crazy in the canyon, and as the afternoon stretched on, it didn’t seem like it would let up. _Are we really surrounded by that many Shrines? Or am I just circling one? And where in the world is that Tower?_

Link saw the Stable come into view and frowned. A Shrine had to be nearby…

He decided it was time to climb.

He put on his Climber’s bandanna and removed his cloak and tunic. The heat wasn’t unbearable here, but when it fell directly on him, it was rather intense—and he no longer feared the kind of enemies that could be waiting for him atop every cliff.

There were several decayed Guardian husks embedded in the sandstone, but none seemed to be alive. He nearly ran into a lizalfo disguised in the rocks, but a nearby ladder saved him. A moblin was waiting for him at the top, but he ducked between its legs and continued running from patch of shade to patch of shade.

He came to a plateau and saw a Tower in the distance, and he set his sights on it. It was far enough away that without the aid of a horse, it would take the rest of the day to climb up to it—and that wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

He quickly became acquainted with the wolves of the Gerudo Desert, and he made use of his giant boomerang to scare them off. He considered collecting a pelt, but he had warm clothes and he certainly had enough rupees, so he left them behind.

The Wasteland Tower was surrounded by a bottomless bog, but Link knew how to deal with those. He got himself right to its base before he decided to look around with Magnesis. Surely something precious had fallen in there at some point in history—and certainly, there were plenty of treasure chests and old bins of ore and supplies hidden in the murk.

He’d collect them later. The wind was picking up.

Speaking of wind…

He climbed to the top of a stone pillar that rested against the side of the Tower, and when he reached its flat top, he summoned Revali’s bluster to lift him straight up to the Tower before its guardian wind could blow him away.

He braided his hair and put on his Snowquill headdress as his map distilled. “Fi,” he said suddenly, “can you read the ancient Sheikah text?”

_I cannot read without eyes, Master. It has been eons since I had eyes._

Link’s chest tightened at the somber tone of her metallic voice, and he jumped down from the Tower to collect the treasures below.

Instead of climbing all the way back down the way he’d come, he took a running start and ran off the side of a cliff. Every time he opened his glider, now, he got a face full of ash. He hoped that the more he used it, the more it would air out.

He found the Power of Electricity Trial on his way down, and he took several photos as he progressed through the Shrine and quickly dispatched a sword-wielding Guardian not with Fi but with a bomb arrow to the face.

He stopped by the Stable just to see what merchants and gossip were there that day, but he was pleaqsantly surprised to find Kass playing outside.

“Greetings, traveler,” Kass said with a wry smile. “How about a song? I know one of the Hero of Twilight. Perhaps dusk is a fitting time to present it.”

Link leaned against the side of the stable to let the bard take the stage. To his surprise, Kass did not use his accordion, and the sound of his reedy, unaccompanied voice sent shivers down Link’s spine.

_“Tell me, Hero born in Ordon, close to Farore’s heart_  
_Do you feel a sadness as dusk falls—_  
_The lingering regrets of spirits who have left our world?_

_When you walk Hyrule Castle’s halls,_  
_Do you hear the wolf cry when the night unfurls?_  
_It is time once again for the cycle to restart.”_

Link closed his eyes and remembered.

He remembered the children stolen…the usurper king…the sensation of his own teeth tearing into shadow made solid. He remembered his companion for the journey. He remembered how he could never laugh at her, for wolves are incapable of the reflex.

He remembered how broken he had felt when Zelda died before him. Even without recalling her true identity, their shared history, he’d felt their connection—and terrible, terrible pain when it was severed.

He remembered the Shade of a Fallen Hero’s lessons and lingering regret.

_A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage._

He remembered his heartbreak when he saw Midna’s crushed helmet in Ganandorf’s hand, and again when the shards of the Mirror fell at his feet. He would hear her giggle in the shadows for the rest of his life, but never would his broken heart completely heal.

He laid the Sword to rest when his quest was done, but without it to claim his identity as the Hero, the courts of Hyrule would not believe that a simple farm hand had saved their Princess and their Kingdom. The Princess had laid her honor on the line to vouch for him, but it only led to further rebellion in her court.

So one day, to help her rebuild Hyrule, he made his decision to leave. He rode away equipped with only his shield, and he faded...

Link opened his eyes as Kass finished the song. “Thank you,” Link said.

“Do you feel the loneliness of Twilight, Link?” Kass asked softly. “They say they say that if you travel alone as darkness falls and ask for the company of the Hero of Twilight, no harm will come to your camp that night.”

Link smiled a little. If anyone actively sought his company in this lonely, empty world, he’d probably risk life and limb to keep them safe, too.

_Master… The surge of hormones in your body indicates great sorrow._

Link could not answer her, in front of Kass—well, he _could_ , but Kass still hadn’t outwardly acknowledged his identity, and Link would maintain the illusion for now.

"I hadn't known that," he told Kass. "But I will put it to the test tonight. Goodbye, Kass."


	43. Desert Vai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. There will be a fair amount of cross-dressing to come.

Link saw that he was not the only traveler crossing the desert that evening. He was certainly the only one who looked remotely warm, however—and, it seemed, the only Hylian.

He followed the same path that they all did and for the most part avoided the lizalfos he could see outlined in the dunes on either side. He couldn’t help but wonder how much treasure was hidden out there in the shifting sands of the Gerudo Desert, but now was not the time. Two huge, impenetrable sandstorms rose to both the east and the west. The storm to the east was more than just a dust storm, though: lightning cracked with unnatural strength, and its impact and the ensuing thunderclaps were loud, even at this distance.

And then the beast cried out in the night. It was a sound unlike any other. It was a desolate and anguished cry that echoed from canyon to canyon and filled the whole desert with its plight.

Vah Naboris appeared from within the sandstorm. Its mighty head rose up out of the clouds, and its red and purple mechanisms flickered into view for a moment. Then, the clouds of dust covered it again. It was making its way toward him… slowly.

Link reached the Kara Kara Bazaar and found that it was bustling with activity despite the late hour. He spied a Rito and a Goron snoozing off to the side, out in the open, but there were Gerudo merchants arguing with Hylian men over the prices of fruit and travelers playing cards by the fire.

In the dark, it was difficult to tell, but Link felt as though he had seen this place before.

He pulled out his Sheikah Slate and hesitated.

 _I sense that you are conflicted,_ Fi chimed.

“I know I just went through a lot about memories and embracing who I was and who I am…” Link sighed. “It still hurts that I forgot.”

_You always do, Master. I do not understand why this always pains you so, though I have accepted that it always will._

 

_It had been mercilessly hot that day. He had been forced to take drastic measures to follow the princess ever since her explosion in Tabantha: he followed far behind her and her handmaidens once they left the Castle, and he drew heavily on his Sheikah roots to remain hidden and undetected._

_For the most part, Link handled it well. He cleared the path of moblins and bokos, and he bribed travelers and merchants to pretend like they hadn’t seen him going ahead of the royal escort._

_But he had a difficult time in Gerudo Town. Even with his disguise, he didn’t dare get too close to her for fear of being recognized or spoken to—and though he trusted the Gerudo to take care of his princess, it was difficult to anticipate their movements._

_Like now. He ran full-tilt through the desert, sweat dripping into his eyes as every step sank deeper and deeper into the sand. He had caught wind, too late, that the princess had gone to an archaeological site with a Sheikah researcher and several Gerudo academics…but no guards._

_“All Gerudo are warrior women!” Zelda’s handmaid had protested, to Link’s disgust._  
_So he was running as fast as he could to the dig site, and that’s when he saw the princess._

 

_And this was her memory, too._

_She was an ungainly runner, arms everywhere and face wild with fright. Then, Link saw why._

_A Yiga assassin chased after her. Their footsteps impossibly light atop the sand. Two more jumped out from behind a boulder and cut off her escape route._

_She was trapped._

_She fell. It was over._

 

_Link didn’t even process his movements, didn’t plan. He needed to be there, to rip that sickle from the assassin’s hand before it even got close to her golden hair. And it was so._

_The assassin fell, dead, and Link raised the Master Sword, daring the remaining Yiga to strike. I_ ’ll resurrect your friend and take all three of you at once, _he thought, but his face was as cold and schooled as ever._

 

_Zelda looked up at his back, her eyes wide. He had not seen them, with his back to her, but now he saw a spark of something he did not recognize in her face._

_Gratitude._

_Awe._

_Admiration._

 

Link shook himself in the desert. She had fallen right there, at his feet, and he had stood there with Fi and scared the assassins away.

“Fi… What were her emotions like, in that moment?”

 _I am not as adept at measuring such things when you and I are occupied in combat,_ Fi admitted. _I am sorry to disappoint you, Master._

“What did I do afterward?”

Feelings flooded his bond with Fi as she tried to piece together a timeline for him. The Yiga fled; Link helped Zelda up with one hand and looked her over for injuries. They were silent all the way back to Gerudo Town, where he would not let her leave his side unless personally escorted by Urbosa.

The Chief had promised to take her up to the Divine Beast and occupy her there with the controls…so Link left them, and he went to the Bazaar again to be sure no traitors were welcome there.

“Thank you,” Link said, and he turned back to the Bazaar. “I guess I should find a disguise again, shouldn’t I?”

He ran all the way to Gerudo Town and claimed the Shrine he knew would be nearby. It was right outside the walls, and he was glad for the cover of night to disguise his entry.  
Daqo Chisay had prepared another interesting electric trial. Link had to connect several circuits to complete the trial, and he learned the hard way that he could only move the electrified metal objects with Magnesis…and from a distance.

When he exited the Shrine, he was startled to find someone huddled beside it, peering surreptitiously toward Gerudo Town. They both startled each other in the dark.

“Are you _spying?”_ Link demanded.

“What?! N-no, I’m not a spy…I’m a merchant! I’m actually the leader of a caravan, and I traveled all the way here to hawk my wares—but this town doesn’t allow men to go in. So that’s why… I…had to…um…"

“You’re _spying_ ,” Link repeated, this time in a more incredulous tone.

“It’s _research_!’ the merchant cried. “And think what you want, but I have learned of a man that slipped into this well-guarded town!”

Link narrowed his eyes. “And?”

The merchant straightened up and put his hands on his hips, head raised with pride. “I heard that man is frequently traveling between Kara Kara Bazaar and Gerudo Town. I’ve been waiting here, trying to spot him as he travels!”

“How do you think you’re going to spot him? What do you think he looks like?” Link rolled his eyes and didn’t wait to hear the response.

Link appreciated that his hair was long and the Great Fairies thought he was quite pretty, but he didn’t think he’d fool the Gerudo guards who stood so sharply on watch through the night.

He ran back to Kara Kara Bazaar and tried to figure out how to surreptitiously inquire with the merchants—the ones who were still awake, at least.

They were _all_ awake, and they were all quite drunk. The women had gathered by the edge of the water and were sharing small glasses of something fizzy and alcoholic. Link felt like he wouldn’t be ingratiating himself with them for interrupting…but perhaps they were in a good mood.

“Excuse me,” he said softly.

Every pair of eyes flew to him. Several women stopped with their mouths open.

 _I do not believe I need to tell you what I sense from them,_ Fi said, bringing a smile to Link’s face. The small flash of his teeth was enough to make one woman spill her drink.

“I’m on high alert for a suspicious vendor,” he said. “Have any of you seen something of note?”

The women tittered. “You do realize,” an older woman said in a dry tone, “that any merchant who is not a Gerudo is suspicious to us, yes?”

Link bit his lip. Perhaps this hadn’t been the best idea—

“Well, Emri, I do believe that one vai merchant in full Gerudo garb is quite interesting. She is not someone I recognize from our tribe, so perhaps she was born to a lucky Gerudo out in Hyrule… I’m sure there’s more to the story.” The woman who spoke looked directly at Link. “She frequents the general store over there.”

Emri snorted. “Pah! Rhondson, you say what you want, but _I’m_ not going to poke my nose in another’s business.”

Link had been about to turn and run to the general store, but he paused when he heard the woman’s name. “Rhondson?” he repeated. “Do you happen to be a skilled tradeswoman?”

“Rhondson is quite a gifted tailor!” one of her companions exclaimed. “We are celebrating her last night at the Bazaar before she heads out for Hyrule to sell her wares!”

Rhondson flushed. “I’ve certainly mastered tailoring… I have dozens of other skills, however. But what I’m really looking for is a handsome voe…and they don’t seem to care much about a well-hemmed garment!”

“Actually,” Link said, “there is a town in the Akkala region, called Tarrey Town, that will need a tailor. I am an emissary of Hudson, the town’s founder and mayor—he is a strong, burly man of honor, and he’s building this town from the ground up. His clothes get torn every day from how hard he toils to build homes and shops…”

Rhondson jumped up. “The Akkala region is so far away, but maybe I need to travel. Getting far away from a village full of vai…will certainly help me in my search for the love of my life.” She cast a teasing eye at her female companions, who cheered for her in turn. “Thank you, for all the information. I’m gonna go home and pack a huge bag. It’ll be a long journey all the way there.”

She held her hand out for Link’s, and they shook firmly. “I’ll surely see you someday in Tarrey Town,” he told her. “Send my regards to Hudson.”

The woman cheered as he and Rhondson went their separate ways: Rhondson for Gerudo Town, and Link for the general store inside the inn.

He quickly learned that the merchant he was looking for favored a perch on top of the inn, looking up at the moon. “She seems quite the romantic,” the shopkeeper said.

Link climbed all the way to the top and found Gerudo woman standing at the edge, clad in pink and staring thoughtfully out at the sandstorm that hid Naboris from view.

“Oh, my,” she said huskily as Link hopped up onto the roof with her. “What a lovely young lad you are. Do you need something from me?”

Link didn’t want to seem rude, but…how could he put this? He studied her face very carefully. She was quite delicate for a Gerudo, and short, too. Perhaps she was partly Hylian.

“Heehee… You’re making my cheeks warm looking at me like that."

“Your clothes are very beautiful,” he said. “I think I’m trying to acquire something similar.”

“Oh, such a nice thing to say! I think it accentuates my…best attributes, don’t you?” Link couldn’t see her face under her veil—and it was still quite dark—but he couldn’t help but think that she was smiling quite coquettishly. “Now that I look at you, this style would look quite fetching on such a delicate voe. I’d have to charge you, of course, but I bet people would see you completely differently if you wore them!”

“That’s the idea.” Link dared to give the woman a sidelong glance and his best Sidon-smile. He saw heat creep into her cheeks.

“What do you think? Do you want to buy them for… six hundred rupees?”

“I’ll take them!” As the woman bent to pull silks from her nearby bag, Link continued the conversation. “My name is Link. What’s yours?”

“I go by Vilia. Here, I have the perfect outfit for you. Go ahead and change into it, I’ll alter it on you.”

Link was decidedly more self-conscious about changing in front of Vilia, considering the hungry way the woman looked at him, but he carefully removed and folded his clothes and slipped into the silk Gerudo sirwal and and top. He slipped on the arm bands, anklets, and veil just as the sun began to rise. He’d had to remove his ponytail, and his hair hung loose around his shoulders and in his eyes, held back only by the small sapphire circlet that rested on his forehead.

When he turned, Vilia let out a squeal. Link’s hands flew to his face bashfully. The movements felt well-practiced and natural, and they elicited a great reaction from Vilia. “You look adorable!! Ahhh heeheehee… Just as I thought! You make for quite a good-lookin’ gal.”

Link clasped his hands in front of him and ducked his head shyly. Vilia was really laying on the flattery. “It’s such a striking look around here, I doubt anyone would even suspect that you’re a man!”

“Someone called me a delicate voe,” Link admitted.

“Oh, you are,” Vilia agreed. “But besides that, the fabric breathes so well that it’s sure to help you deal with the desert heat even if you don’t go into Gerudo Town. Which you should, by the way.”

Vilia squared her shoulders and took a seductive step toward Link, and the young Hylian tried not to step back on reflex.

“If you’re free to grab something to eat sometime, keep me in mind…”

Fortunately—perhaps—a strong gust of wind rose up from where the hot desert sun met the cold sands of the night, and Vilia’s face veil came unhooked at the side. Vilia gasped and raised a hand to cover her beard as she snatched her veil back into place. Link didn’t even blink.

“Heh… Make sure you watch out for the wind.” Vilia laughed nervously, but Link heard the terrible embarrassment that saturated her voice. He approached her and clasped her hands tightly. “Thank you, Vilia,” he said. “I’ll be back for the latest fashions, soon.”

Vilia wove her fingers briefly through his, the soft skin of her fingertips brushing against the back of his hand.

“Anytime, Link.”


	44. The Gerudo Chieftain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seal the deal and R&R, won't you?

Link returned to Gerudo Town immediately. As inviting as the Kara Kara inn looked, he did not feel that he deserved to rest until he had infiltrated the town.

But it was rather anticlimactic now that he had obtained the Gerudo outfit. He strolled right by the guards; they didn’t check his gender, nor did they even really break their attention to greet him. Inside, no one gave him a second look as he wandered through the town.

He sold some of his wares to a Gerudo woman who argued down his prices at every chance and gave some flint to a jeweler whose supply had been cut off by Naboris’ raging.

“I have but a few pieces left for sale,” Isha said, “and I’d gladly give you one as thanks. The sapphire circlet is my most coveted—it grants some heat-resistance in the desert.”

Link’s eyes slid off to Naboris. Isha had just complained about the unnatural lightning that followed Naboris wherever it went, and given that he had encountered Wind, Water, and Fire golems in the other Divine Beasts, he could make an educated guess about what he would face next.

“Do you have any topaz?” Link asked.

“Yes! These earrings go so well with your outfit. I love your sense of style.” Isha handed him an open box, in which two droplets of topaz rested in a bed of silver. “You must wear both in order to enjoy the electric-resistance of the set.”

Link dutifully hooked them through the holes in his earlobes that remained from one hundred years ago. “How do they look?”

“Ah, even better than I thought! Please come back again when I have my full stock available!”

Link ran off, suddenly quite pleased by the sound of his earrings jingling with every movement. He really enjoyed the Gerudo style of dress—even the jewelry was light and unrestrictive, functional and not flashy but full of implied pride and grace. It certainly made him hold himself straighter as he ascended the stairs to the Gerudo Chief’s throne room. The guards at the doors were too occupied to stop his entry; one was pinned against the wall by a precocious Hylian woman armed with a notebook and loud, nosey questions, while the other was fending off a desperately wailing Gerudo woman.

The throne room was dim and cool despite the growing heat of the day, and water cascaded stepwise on either side of the throne. Banners of white and maroon covered teh ceiling, emblazoned with flowers and the Gerudo emblem, and the pillars around the room were covered in scrawling Gerudo script. The back of the Gerudo Chief’s throne bore the same writing and emblem and stood like a monument of its own.

A single, burly guard stood by the throne, her two-handed sword drawn before her. But on the throne sat a young girl, the very picture of grace and languor.

Link felt something stir in his memory at the sight of her radiant golden headdress and ornately embroidered top, but it was really the chief’s skirt that seemed familiar: flat, golden coins hung from its asymmetric hem and jingled with every movement. Like rupees hitting stone.

The chief looked at him with appraising green eyes. Her gaze swept across his figure and came to rest on the Sheikah Slate on his hip. “It seems you have something rather interesting there.”

Link took a step forward, but the guard at the throne slammed her sword into the ground menacingly to halt his progress. “You stand before Lady Riju, chief of the Gerudo! Declare your business, but come no closer!”

Riju straightened up, her eyes never leaving Link’s. “Hold on, Buliara… This one appears to be more than a common traveler. What is your name?”

“Link, my lady. I have come to calm Naboris.”

The guard, Buliara, gave a haughty, barking laugh. “You think you have what it takes to subdue something so powerful as a Divine Beast?”

Link kept his eyes on Riju’s; she had leaned back in her throne once again, cheek perched carefully on a delicate hand. “I have tamed three,” he said, an ounce of pride in his voice. “I come from Vah Rudania, who now stands on Death Mountain waiting to strike the Calamity—with Ruta and Medoh.”

Buliara grew agitated. “The only ones who could ever control them were Champions like Lady Urbosa, and all of the Champions died in the Calamity one hundred years ago!”

“Hmm…” Riju’s soft hum shut Buliara’s mouth in an instant. “Buliara, a memory just jumped into my head—something my mother spoke of. When the Calamity happened, the princess of Hyrule placed a fallen swordsman into a deep sleep. Though it always seemed more legend than fact, that swordsman, much like our new friend here, was named Link.”

“But, Lady Riju! Do those same stories not also say that the Hylian Champion carried a legendary sword?”

Riju crossed her arms and splayed one delicate hand across her collarbone. “Well, Link?” she asked coolly.

Link unbuckled the Master Sword and held the sheath out in front of him. “When I fell,” he began, and Buliara’s eyes widened, “Princess Zelda placed me in a deep sleep—and did the same for the sword that seals the darkness. It slept in the Lost Woods of Hyrule Forest for a century, until I came to claim it.”

Link drew the Sword and held it before him so that the symbol of the Triforce, and the divine words of the Goddess herself, were visible to the chief and her guard.

Riju’s eyes glinted with unconstrained excitement. “That is what my mother told me, Buliara. The Princess of Hyrule hid it away in the middle of a deep forest, and she gave her Hero a precious relic of the Sheikah tribe. Is that not what I see on your hip, Link?”

He nodded once.

“But that means…” Buliara’s anger flared once more. “You’re a voe! A voe within our walls is a great crime!”

“But a voe who is a Champion…and the Hero of Time, no less. I imagine you would have been able to enter our city by force or by stealth, and yet you have respected our laws and culture by presenting yourself as a vai.” Riju turned her head to Buliara. “My mother laughed often at the thought of Lady Urbosa sneaking the Hylian Champion in to Gerudo Town in the clothes of our people. It seems that it is a tradition begun by our great Champion. And would we ever mistreat a friend of Lady Urbosa?”

She looked back at Link and smiled ever so slightly. “If Link is here to help us with Naboris, then we are allies. You saw it as you approached. Divine Beast Vah Naboris, cloaked in a massive sandstorm, hurling lightning at any who dare approach. Even now, it wanders closer to our outposts. Soon it will threaten Gerudo Town itself. We have yet to find any way to appease the Divine Beast on our own. If Link is truly a Champion, perhaps he will be able to enter Naboris and calm its anger. Or perhaps he will die, Buliara, and we will be back where we began.”

Riju glanced at her guard, but the woman had closed her eyes defiantly and seemed unswayed. Link was quickly growing tired of the guard’s doubt and her resentful tone, but he tried not to let it show in his eyes. He had dealt with Revali’s resentment in silence, and he’d deal with Buliara the same way.

“I don’t see how you can trust a complete stranger with something as important as this task. Surely it is possible to make a facsimile of a great sword, and perhaps he stole the Sheikah heirloom—just as our precious heirloom has been stolen from us.” Her nostrils flared. “Perhaps if this person were first to prove his worth by recovering your stolen Thunder Helm…”

Riju met Link’s eyes. “There is only one thing in all of Hyrule that can withstand the lightning from Naboris. The Thunder Helm, a family heirloom and a relic of the ancient Gerudo. But as Buliara says, it was stolen from us.”

“You needn’t worry, Lady Riju. If he truly is the Hero of legend, this should be an easy task for him.”

Link was thankful that the rest of his face was covered with his veil, because he was having a hard time keeping his lip from curling in disgust.

“Who would dare steal the helm?” he asked.

“The chief’s heirloom was stolen by thieves belonging to the Yiga Clan,” replied Buliara. “Captain Teake has determined that the Yiga’s hideout is in Karusa Valley. We have yet to send troops out—we saw Naboris change its course for Gerudo Town, and I thought it unwise to send such a large force away from our stronghold.”

Link returned the Master Sword to his back. “I’ve dealt with them before,” he said. “I’ll gladly knock the bananas out of them again.”

“You know…” Riju allowed a small, genuine smile to grace her face. “I take heart in having such a rare visitor as yourself. Lady Urbosa must be looking out for us.” Link smiled in return, though she of course did not see. “Please, be welcome in Gerudo Town. But be discrete. I will not hesitate to make an example out of any voe who dares to enter our town.”

He briefly covered his heart to acknowledge her words, then reached for the Sheikah Slate. He truly relished the look on Buliara’s face as he vanished into the aura and was whisked away on the breeze.

 

He rematerialized in Hateno. It was about time to visit the dye shop.

“Welcome! If you were looking to add some color to your wardrobe, you found the right place! Hue do you do, missy?”

Link opened his mouth to correct him, then shut it just as fast. He had forgotten to change out of his Gerudo vai outfit and…well…

“I’d like to dye these black,” Link said and pulled the Sheikah armor out of his pack.

“Let Kochi Dye Shop take care of that! We live to dye!” Link snorted in a very unladylike manner and handed off the armor to the shopkeeper. “It’ll be twenty rupees total, but we need some materials—flint will do. Do you have five pieces?”

Link did, though he was certainly starting to run low on it. He would have to be mindful about collecting more ore for a while.

“Just an hour or so, then!”

“You know what,” Link said. “While I’m here…”

He returned to Gerudo Town an hour or so later. He had dyed his Sheikah set black, to up his stealth, and his Ancient set white…just because he thought it looked better. Robbie really had no sense of style, did he? Not with those glasses of his, at least...

He wandered the Town to wait for night to fall and discovered a merchant who sold rice and wheat, a hidden Gerudo scimitar that he claimed for his own, that sand seals were sealiously the best way to cross the desert, and that the Hylian woman who loved to bother the Gerudo guards was the famous Traysi, author of the Rumor Mill.

When Traysi saw that Link surely recognized her, she grabbed Link’s arm and dragged him all the way to the tavern for a drink. She was sorely disappointed when the bartender refused to serve alcohol to Link— _look at her, she’s but a child!_

As Traysi tried to argue on Link’s behalf, a suspicious conversation floated to Link’s sensitive ears.

“Oh, I was going to tell you, I promise! But I just had to go there and see what it was all about myself, first, you know.”

“Come on, we all know you just wanted to make sure your voe was better dressed than ours, Yaido.”

“Hey! You better be nice to me if you want the password for you-know-where.”

“Seriously? That place is a little crazy, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but it’s so worth it. The password is GSC diamond. I overheard Saula talking about it! And it was totally right.”

Link raised his eyebrows at that and left without saying goodbye to Traysi, who was still arguing with the bartender. He assumed from what the women had mentioned that there was something fishy about the tailor, and he wanted to find out.

The tailor was packing up for the day, but she looked up when Link approached.

“Sav’saaba,” she said.

“Vasaaq,” Link replied and smiled at the woman’s surprise. He was picking up Gerudo quickly, it seemed. “I’m looking for something special for…” Link lowered his voice. “…my voe back home. Yaido mentioned the password but she forgot to tell me where to find the shop. Would you help me, Saula?”

Saula’s eyes darted back and forth. “What’s a Hylian vai like you want with Traditional Gerudo clothing?” she asked in a soft voice. “I mean, you look good in it, but…”

“I have the rupees,” Link said flatly, “and I pride myself on fashion.”

“Well then.” Saula returned to folding her wares. “If you really are a member, head around to the side door.”

“Sarqso,” Link said with a wink and ran around the side of the building. There was only one door, and it was locked.

“…What’s the password?” a voice called from deep within.

“GSC diamond.”

Link heard the lock spring open, and footsteps ran back into the shop. “It’s open now.”

The Gerudo Secret Club was dark and the air inside was thick with perfume. It was largely as Link expected, however: an additional tailor shop full of men’s clothing.

Well, armor.

“Hey… I haven’t seen your face around here before… Heh heh heh… Looks like we’ve got ourselves a rare visitor.” The shopkeeper smirked and crossed her arms. “I guess I have a suspicious mind… So maybe you don’t ask too many questions, and I won’t either.”

Link nodded and unhooked his veil on one side. “May I try this on?” he asked as he walked toward a beautiful green and red Gerudo armor set.

“Of course. It’ll look good on you. Perhaps not as good as what you’re currently wearing.”

Link shot her an amused look, and she shrugged, returning to the book she had been reading when he entered.

He found that he really liked the Desert Voe armor. It seemed designed for someone like him, to keep his hair out of his face and off the back of his neck during hot days, armor to cover his arms and legs while still keeping his core cool.

 _Master, this armor leaves most of your vital organs quite vulnerable to attack,_ Fi said disapprovingly.

Link couldn’t be seen talking to thin air, not in public, so he saved his smart comment for later. Perhaps Fi did this on purpose so he couldn’t talk back to her.

He bought the armor in spite of her protests, reasoning that it had a stronger heat resistance than the traditional Gerudo clothing he wore now. Who knew how long he’d be wandering the desert for?

Night had finally fallen when he left Gerudo Town. Fortunately, the Karusa Valley was at the very edge of the map segment he had already collected, but it was quite far. He would need to set seal at once.


	45. The Cursed Clan.

Link rode straight into the sandstorm and realized quickly that may have been a mistake. The Sheikah Slate quickly seemed to lose signal, but he had enough sense of direction to keep the sand seal on a straight course.

He raced past lizalfos and octoroks who woke just as he went by, and he left them in his dust; soon enough, it seemed that even they did not dare venture where he was headed. The air was filled with the sound of rattling wood—like the wind chimes strung up all through Kakariko.

Link tried to stop the sand seal, but it did not seem to understand, and he was forced to let go of its harness and let it disappear into the sands. His now-battered shield went flying up into the air, and he landed heavily on his backside. The sounds were muted in the sandy canyon; the wooden wind chimes and the whistle of the wind dominated the landscape.

He figured that was as good a place as any to change out of his Gerudo garb. The temperature had dropped precipitously while he was on his sand seal but he had not wanted to stop and get disoriented in the sandstorm. He tied up his hair and wrapped his scarf around his neck and tried to quell his shivers. Certainly, the Yiga hideout had to be warm. He couldn’t imagine a Yiga clansmen wearing Snowquill trousers, no matter how cold.

Link continued walking through the canyon, heading north, until he came to a ridge of red sandstone. Several frog guardians sat atop the ridge, watching for intruders with their upturned Sheikah eyes. He was wary of their stares as he passed them by, as the sand beneath his feet transitioned from shifting, dusty grains into rockier fare.

He rounded a corner just in time to see the infernal glow of a Yiga’s teleportation spell. The archer appeared in a burst of smoke and charm paper, but before it could even shake off the smoke, Link had drawn an ice arrow and turned the Yiga’s head into a frozen block.

He walked over quickly and stomped it into tiny shards.

 _Master, I suggest you retreat from view of their sentries,_ Fi said firmly. _And by sentries, I mean their frog guardians._

“Got it.”

Link scaled the wall of the canyon and found himself surrounded by snow and wolves. He set off at a run along the lip of the canyon—partly to keep his blood hot, and partly to avoid confronting the rabid beasts nipping at his heels. The canyon below was full of the frog guardians and Sheikah—well, Yiga charms and wind chimes. Sand hissed as it fell from the roof of the canyon and formed little piles down below.

He faced no more trouble from the Yiga, out of view of their sentries. Thank the Goddess for Fi.

Link dropped down into the canyon once he knew he had reached the front entrance to the hideout. It was guarded by several frog Guardians, but he landed carefully just out of view and slipped inside the open doorway without alerting the Yiga to his presence.

He stood still inside the first chamber and took it in while he waited to be certain he had not been noticed. The room was circular, and seven paths led from the center altar outward. Their entrances were hidden by Yiga banners, and he had a gut feeling that nothing good was hidden behind them.

On either side of each path stood a tall, ancient statue; each was a swordswoman, and her sword bore the Gerudo script he had noticed in Riju’s throne room. It seemed they had been there for centuries, perhaps, for sand and stone had settled in thick layers around their bases. The Yiga had hidden their faces with the same emblem that covered the faces of their frog guardians outside.

Link found a torch and lit it in a nearby oil lamp. He would be ready for whatever came at him from behind those tapestries, but it was time to find his way deeper into the hideout.

He encountered too many keese to count, but a few swings with his torch was enough to dispel them and take care of the ones who were not afraid of fire. Finally, he came across the entrance.

He climbed the stairs cautiously and entered the Yiga Hideout in earnest.

A prison cell lay across from him at the top of the stairs, and he crept across the landing to peer through the bars. A Gerudo guardswoman slept in the corner—or was pretending to sleep, as Link found.

“What are you doing here, Hylian?” she hissed. “If they spot you, they’ll call their friends for sure. There’s no way you can take them all at once. All they ever do is patrol and eat bananas, there’s no way you could sneak past!”

Link rolled his eyes. “Exactly,” he whispered. “Be quiet.”

He turned and crawled, so low he was nearly sliding on his belly, to the edge of the landing. He could see the bob of a distant torch, certainly held by a patrolman. He just needed to time the patrol’s rounds and slip past.

The patrol was much, much bigger than the Yiga assassins he had encountered to date—and so was his weapon. The blade at his side was longer than Link was tall, and he could see the dappling indicative of a folded steel craftsmanship. He did not want to be on the other side of that steel, under any circumstances.

He waited until the Yiga had turned the corner again before gliding down from his platform. He carefully landed and caught hold of the pillar in the center of the room, never touching the ground, and before the patrol could come ‘round again, Link jumped up onto the top of the pillar to catch his breath.

Link decided that he loved sneaking. It was a great game, though there were certainly dire consequences for losing.

Bananas were hung above doorways, on the walls, in alcoves, and Link could not decide if it was a decorative choice or some form of idol worship. Nevertheless, it was certainly _convenient_.

He sat there for what felt like hours, taking in the details of the room. In the upper part of the storeroom, where he hid, a single guard patrolled from corner to corner. He cast glances toward the entrance and to every corner, making sure that no one strolled in to the base or tried to leave it.

A small ledge separated the upper storeroom from the lower, in which several crates and chests sat. A single guard, just as massive and burly as the first, stood in the doorway that led deeper into the hideout.

He would need to get that guard out of the doorway. But how?

What sort of distraction could he cause that would make them go running—without attracting their friends?

Link unhooked his Falcon bow, favored for its negligible drop, and took aim for the shelf that held a banana right beside the guard. And he waited.

Just when the guard directly below him turned his back, Link let his arrow fly.=

The bananas fell.

The guard turned.

Turned back.

Saw the bananas.

_Waddled towards the bananas._

Link opened his glider and dove, as silently as a ghost, down into the lower store room and ducked behind a mountain of crates. He could hear the Yiga guard humming to himself as he broke open a banana and took a bite. He really wanted to peek around and look, but he didn’t dare, so instead he opened the nearest chest and found a bunch of bananas and a hunk of sapphire inside.

He took the sapphire.

When he felt as though the guard had returned to his position, Link took aim at another bunch of bananas. This one was right above him—and right across from the guard.

This time, the guard saw the bananas immediately and made a delighted sound before waddling toward it. Link paused in the now-unoccupied doorway to observe, with a confused and slightly disgusted look, that the Yiga didn’t just waddle toward the bananas but rather tiptoed as if the bunch of yellow fruit was about to run away if startled.

Then Link ducked through the door and ran down the hall.

An open doorway to his right revealed a much larger storeroom patrolled by many more of the largest Yiga he had ever seen. Fortunately, the hall continued, and Link leaped past the open doorway before he could be spotted.

He climbed the ladder at the end of the hall and crawled along the walkway that lined the left side of the room. At the end, he found more bananas than he could ever have imagined—or would have, ever. Would anyone have ever imagined this many bananas?

He also found a topaz. He took some of the bananas too, this time, because he felt like he couldn’t always rely on the Yiga having placed all of their decor with his needs in mind.

From his perch high above the room, Link observed the patterns of the watchmen’s routes. Each of them patrolled one of the four corners of the room, and several storage containers and cabinets were strewn about—convenient places to hide behind. There was a central storeroom, probably an ice room, but its roof was too tall for him to land on top of as he had previously.

This time, he would need to go entirely on foot.

He returned from where he had entered and jumped down the ladder to the floor below. He waited for the light, cast by the Yiga’s torches, to fade, and then crept through the doorway and hid behind a block of cabinets.

As he went, he saw several shelves of bananas very conveniently placed for distraction purposes.

_Goddess bless their interior decorator._

_Indeed,_ said Fi.

He was so patient, as he waited for each guard to reach the right point in their circuit to let the bananas fall. Each time, they busied themselves with he fruit long enough for him to get past, snag a ruby or three, and find cover once more. Finally, he reached the last guard—and the door.

He climbed a hidden ladder into the rafters while one guard rounded a corner, then carefully slid foot after foot across a weak support beam until he stood right over the door. Then, with a carefully balanced swing, he tossed the bananas.

They fell with a very heavy thud, considering they were fruit, but they did their job. The guard tiptoed forward and pounced on them like a starving man, and Link dropped down into the doorway unseen.

The next room was empty save for a few duple bows, even more bananas, and frog guardians. They all had their eyes covered, and no Yiga seemed to be summoned by his presence, so he allowed himself to relax ever so slightly.

Until he tripped on a chest buried in the sand. He used Magnesis to pull it out as quietly as possible and found many more jewels than he had seen before. He took them all. It wouldn’t be good self preservation to leave the Yiga with the resources to hunt him down, would it?

Magnesis had given him a brief look at the far wall, and he saw that it was metal that had been painted to look like stone. Seeing as it was the only way out, besides back into a swarm of massive Yiga men, Link decided to try it.

 _I sense a great evil on the other side of this wall,_ Fi warned.

“I do too,” he murmured, and he pushed on the wall.

He walked out into the Gerudo Highlands once more. The exit he took seemed more like a monumental entrance, with great sloping ceilings and giant lanterns, like one might find in a temple or a shrine. The area was an enclosed, circular cavern—like an arena. Wooden chimes were strung across the whole of it, criss-crossing the night sky above him as he walked toward the center.

There was a giant pit there, seemingly bottomless, though he did not dare get close enough to look. He wasn’t about to get startled or pushed into it.

“Hey!”

Link spun around at the heavy thud behind him and found a Yiga crouched there. He was certainly not the kind of boss Link had been expecting: he was fat, and his hair stuck out of the back of his bodysuit in a pompom-like ponytail. His outfit was ruffled and had a large, ostentatious collar embellished with gold.

Link wanted to ask Fi if she was seeing the same thing he was, but he remembered that she did not have eyes, so he drew his sword in silence.

The Yiga stood slowly, brushed off sand from his shoulders. “Who the heck are you? And what are you doing in my napping spot?!”

The man took antoher look at Link, then tried to rub his eyes but was impeded by his mask. “Wait a minute! That thing on your hip… Is that… Could it be the Sheikah Slate?”

Link let out a huff of hot air through his scarf.

“If it’s a Sheikah Slate… Then that means… Yeah, IT’S YOU!” The Yiga pointed a finger at him wildly, and Link saw that the ruffles on his sleeve were spotted with purple leopard print. “You’re that Link guy I’ve been looking for!” He cackled maniacally and raised his hands to the sky. “What luck! My scouts are out in the field looking high and low, but you just wander into my hideout!”

If Link were to adhere to the knight’s code, he would have waited to square off with his opponent, to have an honorable and fair start to the battle. But Link had no king to serve, no pages, no squires to lead, no captains or generals to obey. And he was pretty sure Hylia wouldn’t mind if he interrupted this bullshit anyway.

Link lunged for Kohga—for that was certainly who this was—and attacked before any human could possibly have noticed him coming. Yet Kohga disappeared into a burst of smoke and charm paper and reappeared several feet back.

“Excuse me!” Kohga shrieked. “I haven’t introduced myself yet!” He threw his arms wide. “I am the leader…of the Yiga Clan! The strong!” He began to dance, and Link continued to chase. “The burly! The one!! The only!! MASTER KOHGA!!!”

Kohga landed and posed, finally ready for battle. “Now, prepare to die!”

He spun away and cast a spell, conjuring a force field around himself that Link could not hope to penetrate, so Link made some distance between them and waited with narrowed eyes for the attack to come.

When Kohga summoned a giant stone ball above his head, Link nearly set off at a run. But the Yiga’s magic shield had flickered, and Link knew to capitalize on an opening when he saw one. He sheathed the Master Sword and drew his bow once more.

An arrow to the knee was all it took for Kohga to lose control of his giant, spiked, stone boulder. He lunged out of the way and laid out, flat on the ground, wailing about how unfair that trick was, Hero!

Link readied his bow again and shot it straight for the Yiga Master’s face—but the blue magic force field was up again.

Kohga retreated to the center of the arena. It was news to Link that the Yiga could fly, but Kohga floated above the center of the pit without aid from a glider or a thermal draft.

There, he summoned not one but two giant boulders, each emblazoned with the Yiga eye.  
“You…fool!” Kohga grunted, and he put his hands together as though clasping something tight. “Fear…the eye…of the—”

Link shot an arrow just as Kohga’s shield faltered and a great stone boulder hung suspended over his head. With his concentration shattered, the boulder began to drop, quickly, toward Kohga’s head. To Link’s chagrin, the Yiga Master lunged out of the way just in time.

“Aaargh!” Kohga screamed. He shot into the air once more and summoned an even larger, metal spiked ball. Link straightened up, cocked his head to the side, and used Magnesis to wrest control of the ball from Kohga,

“Aaargh!” Kohga screamed again, and he was forced to destroy his own creation to avoid being turned into mashed potatoes.

“This guy, of all people!” Kohga jumped back down tot he ground and shook his fist at Link. “You think I’m just going to let this stand?! Do you?! You come into my hideout, you make a fool of my guards, you turn my own magic against me!” Kohga snarled menacingly. “But you will not be able to corrupt my secret technique! It is fool-proof, Hero! Hero-proof! It…will…destroy you!”

He put his hands together and summoned the largest spiked, metal ball to date. It landed heavily in front of Link, blocking his view of Kohga.

Link readied himself to use Magnesis to push the ball away from him, but he needn’t have been so prepared. The ball groaned and began to roll a little, following the pull of gravity, down toward the pit.

“Ahahaha—uh… Huh. Maybe it’s just a tad too big. Are you still over there, Hero? Well, no matter, you’ll soon be gone! And not from my line of sight, but from this wor—ahhhhh!”

Link felt a large dose of satisfaction watching Kohga fall to his death, crushed by the spikes of his own spikey metal ball…thing.

“A great evil, huh?” Link asked Fi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was always a little annoyed by how easy Kohga was--compared to even his foot soldiers! I was so scared of the Yiga assassins right outside Kakariko when I first started playing...
> 
> So now that Kohga is gone, it's time for a worthy foe to rise to meet Link in his place.


	46. Makeela Riju.

“Looking for this?”

Link whipped around and found himself staring up at the most massive Yiga he had ever seen. He held up the Thunder Helm on his fist, and in the other hand he held his long, wicked blade.

The Yiga threw the helmet at Link, who caught it deftly but never broke his defensive stance. The Yiga laughed. “You may have defeated Master Kohga and exposed our hideout, but you will never be free of the watchful eye of the Yiga. With that fool out of my way, I, Blademaster Ka’loh, will train my brothers and sisters in earnest, and we will finally be rid of the Hero and the disgraced Sheikah tribe.”

“Why do you do this?” Link demanded. “Why turn your back on the Goddess like this?”

Ka’loh did not reply and vanished into a puff of smoke and charm paper.

Link half expected him to reappear right behind him and attack, but the Yiga hideout seemed suddenly as desolate as the rest of the Highlands. The only sound was the keen of the wind down the canyon.

He warped back to Gerudo Town and changed into his disguise in the alcove of the Shrine, out of view of the guards. Then he donned the Thunder Helm and summoned Revali’s Gale.

Link floated down to Riju, who stood on a balcony above the throne room, looking out at her people.

“You know, as the chief of the Gerudo, I can sense the power of the heirloom from a mile away. You needn’t have worn the thing to show me you had it.”

“I needed both hands to glide here,” Link said with a grin as he removed the helmet. He quickly fixed his veil, but he noticed Riju staring at him curiously. “My Lady, thank you for believing in me.”

She looked out at the town. “I am glad that I was right to. Buliara nearly removed my ears for being childishly naive. I am, as you no doubt noticed, still but a child. The people look on me with nothing but warmth in their eyes, but even this brings me some pain, I must admit… I’ve tried so hard to be worthy of their love, to be a worthy chief…and to prove to myself that I was worthy, too. When my family heirloom was stolen, I felt as though a shadow had fallen over me.”

There was a long pause, in which Link had to fight the desperate urge to speak. Nothing he could think to say felt right. He wanted her to see him as a kindred spirit, naught more than an adolescent yet forced to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. Yet he wondered if she needed to be able to look at him as a Hero.

Riju turned back to him and offered him a tentative smile. It seemed she had also grown uncomfortable with the somber atmosphere that had fallen over them. “You need not address me as ‘my lady,’ Hero. Though Buliara may protest, I would like you to call me Makeela. It is tradition for the Gerudo Chieftain to be addressed only by her second name and to guard the first, for in the religion of the sands it is the first name that holds power over you. But Lady Urbosa never feared to have her friends address her by her true name—and I would have you as my friend.”

Link saw the loneliness deep in her eyes. He could imagine that, regardless of whether he was a man or not, he was perhaps the only person remotely close to her age she’d ever met who wasn’t one of her subjects. He wondered if she was allowed to have any fun.

 _Zelda wasn’t,_ he thought, before he could catch himself.

“Then, Makeela, I would also have you address me as Link.”

“As you say, Link.” Riju tilted her head to look at him curiously. “Yes, your arrival in the midst of all of this must be the work of Lady Urbosa.”

He proffered her the Thunder Helm, and her smile grew wide. She quickly fixed it upon her own head. “Um, how do I look?”

Maybe it was the talk of Urbosa, or maybe it was the sight of the Helm once again worn by a Gerudo Chieftain, but Link was suddenly swept up in the throes of a potent memory.

 

 _He had had to scale Naboris’ legs on his own to reach them; perhaps it was to give him the confidence that she was truly protecting the princess, or perhaps it was to punish him for being so pushy earlier that day, but Urbosa would not stop her Divine Beast—not even though_ she _had been the one to summon him to her._

_So he reached the top of Naboris winded and aching, but it all melted away when he caught sight of Urbosa and the princess at rest in the atrium on Naboris’ shoulder. The princess was clearly fast asleep in the Gerudo Champion’s lap, and Link idly wondered if Urbosa had drugged her charge to keep her from running away. Link had often dreamed of doing the same._

_“Ah, well…you certainly got here fast,” Urbosa said when she heard his footsteps draw near. She lifted herself up from where she reclined on a stack of thick Gerudo textiles, careful not to stir the princess. “I should have expected as much, from the princess’s own appointed knight.”_

_The glint in Urbosa’s eye told him that she knew exactly how much that title weighed on him and how much he wished she would stop calling him that. Urbosa looked back at the sleeping princess. “You’d hardly know that she was on a survey all day today. Still as the sands, now…”_

_Then, she tossed her hair and gave Link a dagger-sharp smile. “So? Spill it, boy. Have the two of you been getting along alright?”_

_He hardly had the words to describe how poorly things had gone since King Rhoam had plucked him out of his unit and thrown him at the feet of the princess. Perhaps the stress of the day had taken a toll on his ability to keep his thoughts from playing out on his face, or perhaps Urbosa had known him for too long and too well, or maybe she had developed mind-reading powers since the last time he’d seen her. She chuckled softly, whatever the case, clearly understanding exactly what he wanted to say but couldn’t. “It’s okay,” she told him.”I know. Your silence speaks volumes”_

_Urbosa raised a gentle hand to the princess’s cheek. None but the Gerudo Chieftain ever showed such familiarity around the princess. Link thought it strange that somehow both he and his princess had separately come to rely on Urbosa as a mentor and a surrogate mother; it was unfortunate, then, that her surrogate children hated one another._

_“She gets so frustrated every time she looks up and sees you carrying that sword on your back,” Urbosa said. Sadness colored her ever-calm voice. “It makes her feel like a failure when it comes to her own destiny.”_

_Link drew a sharp breath. He had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed did not help one bit. What was he to do about that? He certainly wasn’t about to cry to her about how unfair his life was and start a woe-is-me fight with his princess. And that’s certainly what would happen; she was so set in her self-pity that he doubted any overture of friendship would come across as anything but condescension._

_“Don’t worry,” said Urbosa. “It’s not like you carry the blame in any of this. It’s unfortunate. She’s put in more than enough time. Ever since she was a young girl, she’s gone through rigorous daily routines to show her dedication. She once passed out in the freezing waters trying to access this…sealing power. And she has nothing to show for it.”_

_Urbosa looked down at the Princess once more. “She really is quite special,” she murmured. “She pursues her research with such dedication because she is so desperate to help her people in any way that she can. And yet her father still tries to stomp out her spirit.”_

_Link wished he could speak to Urbosa in private, but he never had a private moment, these days. Every moment was the princess’s, even when she was asleep._

_“You be sure to protect her with your life,” Urbosa said suddenly. “It’s quite the honor.”_

_Before he even had the chance to process what she could have possibly intended, saying_ that _of all things to him, Urbosa changed the subject. “The night brings a chill. It’s probably time we take her in.”_

_Link took a step toward them, but Urbosa had raised a hand and snapped her fingers to summon a single, mighty lightning strike. It shook the very foundations of the earth and loosened Link’s footing. Zelda nearly leapt out of her skin._

_“Urbosa! What was that?!”_

_Urbosa, as always, remained completely calm._

_“Did you feel that?!”_

_Zelda looked around frantically and caught sight of Link. He hurried to straighten up, to look less tired, less frustrated, less about-to-murder-Urbosa. The princess’s eyes were wide with horror when she looked at him, and Link’s heart stopped._

_“Wait, what—how did you—what are you doing here?!”_

_Urbosa laughed and laughed as a blush rose to the princess’s face, and Link tried to look anywhere but at the two women. His gaze fell on the Thunder Helm, and he continued to stare at it as Urbosa laughed at his plight._

 

“Link? What’s wrong? You’re just staring…”

Link blinked several times as he tried to remember where he stood now, who he was speaking to now.

“How…how is it?! Does it look alright?”

“Uh…it’s a tad big.” Link tried to sound as apologetic and inoffensive as he could. He could not see Makeela’s face at all beneath the gargantuan golden bucket on her head, but he could tell that she wasn’t pleased.

“…You don’t say,” she said finally.

They were interrupted by the sound of Naboris’s wailing from the distant desert. Makeela turned, helmet still perched precariously on her head. “The threat Divine Beast Vah Naboris poses has only grown since your arrival, Link. I believe Gerudo Town itself will be in danger within days. As chief, and as a Gerudo, I must find some way to stop that thing before it threatens my people. You will help me, yes?”

“Of course.” Link looked at the distant horizon, where the sky began to fade from black to light blue. “We both might want to rest, first, and gather supplies. I assume we’ll need something to knock out its power source, no?”

“Bomb arrows.” Makeela put her hands on her hips. “Link, you have done my people and my family a great honor by reclaiming the Thunder Helm and offering your help in the battle to come. Please rest, and find me here in my chambers when you are ready to begin our quest.”

Link jumped off the side of Makeela’s balcony and landed heavily between the guards at the door to her throne room. They squawked in indignation, but he ignored them and made his way to the inn.

His earlier suspicions about the Gerudo were confirmed when he selected the spa plan, completely prepared to get kicked out the moment he changed into the towel offered to him; they didn’t seem to care. He presented himself so discretely and without mischief that it didn’t matter that he was a voe in Gerudo Town. At least, not the innkeeper or the masseuse.

When he finally fell into bed, his muscles loose and his skin oiled and fragrant, sleep washed over him in an instant.

He dreamed of the Hero.

_They were both dressed in the armor of desert voe; the Hero’s pauldron and padding were a deep green, like the forest, while Link’s was the blue of the Champions. Both of them wielded the Master Sword._

_“It’s time for something the monks could never teach you.” The Hero turned; they were surrounded by an army of stals with chattering teeth and wicked scimitars. “You will not wake until you have cleared the desert,” the Hero said, and he lunged into battle._

_Link watched avidly as time did not stop for the Hero, did not slow, but rather began to move faster; the Hero was a blur, and it seemed that as he spun and twirled through the fray his blows struck further than his blade could even reach. In but a few seconds, the Hero had destroyed a whole swath of enemies; he stood now with plenty of room to breathe and move._

_It was going to be a long, long night._

Extend your spirit through me! _Fi cried, and she vibrated in his hand, bloodlust evident._ I will reach what you cannot.

_He nodded at her and sprang into action._

_When he finally cleared the desert of skeletal foes, Link nearly collapsed in relief. He leaned heavily on Fi as he tried to catch his breath. The scorching desert sun beat down over his head and burnt the exposed skin of his back._

_Then, his sword was gone, and Link was knee-deep in a cool spring shaded by palm trees. Tropical birds called out loudly to one another. Before him, a great stone dragon roared into the mouth of the river, and down its throat stood a great statue of the Goddess._

_The Hero stood at her feet, just as calm and collected as ever. Beside him floated a strange woman cloaked in blues, features as sharp and refined as a sword. Her skin was steely blue and shone as if made out of metal; her delicate feet did not touch the ground, and she cast no shadow._

_Link approached the Spring of Courage and felt his weary body restored._

You have learned the crowd clearing charge, Master, _Fi said._ I am proud to fight by your side.


	47. Naught but Children.

Link was disoriented when he woke; it seemed that it was midday, but he felt as well-rested as if he had slept a month. Maybe that was the magic of the spa plan. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and stretched. His back popped loudly, from the base to the top, and he nearly groaned at how good it felt.

“Fi, did you have the same dream as I did?”

_A dream is a construction of one’s subconscious mind. I would not call that a dream._

“Hm.”

Link spoke to the innkeeper and found that he’d only actually slept for four or five hours. He checked out and made his way to the throne room once more. Buliara stood in front of the empty throne. “If you are looking for Lady Riju, she’s on the second floor. Normally people aren’t allowed into her sleeping quarters, but she has given you permission it seems… Be on your best manners. If she deems you a disturbance to her, it will not end well for you.”

When Link went upstairs, he found Riju fast asleep in her canopy bed. She seemed to have fallen asleep waiting for him; she was slumped over a large textile fascimile of a sand seal. She looked every bit the child she was, wrapped around her stuffed animals and dwarfed by her giant bed.

And Link was loathe to wake her.

A small, leather-bound and gilded book sat on her desk at the foot of the bed, and Link quickly realized it was Makeela’s diary. He silently entered the room and opened the diary to the first page—very quickly, he found it impossible to stop reading.

 

_Buliara told me today that Mother has passed on and gone to a better place... She said that my mother's death means I am now the chief of the Gerudo people. I wish she'd stayed here, though. I don't see how it can be a better place with us apart..._

_Ever since I became the chief, the people in town have been a lot nicer to me. But if I look carefully, I can still see the worry in their eyes. It seems more common than when Mother was chief... Mother... Will I ever be as great a chief as you were?_

_The Divine Beast Vah Naboris, which supposedly has been sleeping in the desert, has suddenly woken up. Mother once told me that Naboris is the deity of protection for the Gerudo people, but it doesn't seem that way... I plan to investigate tomorrow. I have to find out more..._

_Having investigated Divine Beast Vah Naboris, I can say that if it came to Gerudo Town, we'd be helpless. When I drew close to it, using my wonderful sand seal Patricia, I was driven back by sandstorm and lightning. I turned Patricia toward home, but a monster spooked her, and she fled directly towards Naboris again... The next thing I remember is Buliara standing over me, her face full of worry._

_Even since then, Buliara has made a point of never leaving my side. Even now, with such a valuable heirloom stolen by thieves, she refuses to tear herself away from me for even a moment. She takes all the blame for the theft, however. Nothing can change her mind about being responsible. Meanwhile, I can't help but feel that the theft happened because I am not yet ready to be chief... The soldiers search tirelessly, trying to recover the heirloom. No one says a word about my leadership... But they must be thinking about how powerless their chief has proven to be._

_Thanks to the tireless efforts of my soldiers, we've located the thieves' hideout. They definitely aren't common criminals, though. We haven't been able to get anywhere close to the place. To think that the Thunder Helm is right there, yet we can't take it back... Mother... Lady Urbosa... Please give me your guidance..._

 

Link closed the diary once more and retreated to the doorway. Makeela was still fast asleep, undisturbed by his silent Sheikah footsteps. There had been more entries—entries that talked about him, in fact—but he did not need to read them to know what they said.

She reminded him so much of Zelda, though the princess certainly would have envied that Gerudo confidence and swagger. Link wondered just how young Zelda had been when she was told of her divine heritage and her sacred duty. Had she been as young as Makeela?

How young had _he_ been when he found the Sword and hid it under his bed?

 _You awoke in this world three years prior to the princess’s arrival,_ Fi said. _When you were twelve, you caught the eye of the king. He told you to find me. When you were thirteen, you came to me. You hid me from your father for a week, and you kept me hidden from the world. You were not ready. When you were eighteen, you caught the eye of the king once more. He commanded you to bring me to him. You were eighteen when you met the princess. You were nineteen when you fell._

So he hadn’t been much older than Makeela, then.

“Makeela,” he called.

She woke swiftly. Not long after she had opened her eyes, she had leaped out of her bed and rushed to where he stood, leaning against the archway that led to her room. “I apologize for making you wait!” she cried. “I do not know what overcame me—”

“You were tired,” he said. “Don’t apologize. I have slept for days at a time and don’t consider them wasted, as long as I feel rested. Do you?”

Makeela nodded sheepishly and smoothed out her thick braid. “I do.”

“Good. I think both of us will need to be in our best shape to face Vah Naboris.”

“Indeed. I had these brought to me, for your use.” Makeela moved to her desk and opened the drawer beneath it; Link held his breath until she turned, hoping she would not notice that her diary had been disturbed. She did not, and she returned to his side with twenty bomb arrows clutched in one hand.

He accepted them gratefully and added them to his stuffed quiver. “Makeela,” he said, “we haven’t known each other long, so you may not realize that I lost all of my memories when I fell. It has been a long journey, regaining them, but this morning when I saw you wearing the Thunder Helm, I remembered something of Lady Urbosa.”

Makeela’s eyes widened and she pressed closer, her hands fisted at her sides in an attempt to control her eagerness—but Link dared to take one of her hands, and he drew her out onto her balcony. They looked intently at the distant Naboris. The young chieftain’s grip on his hand tightened.

“Lady Urbosa played a very large role in my life, as well in the life of my princess. We were still children when we were given our destinies, and we often struggled—in our own ways—to bear the burden of leadership and the hopes of our people. Lady Urbosa always supported us, looked out for us, and assured us of her confidence in our ability to succeed.”

Link turned back to Makeela. “No leader is without self-doubt. I have learned that, recently. But when people like Lady Urbosa say they believe in you, you should believe them. She would believe in you, Lady Riju.”

The young girl’s eyes glistened like liquid jade. “Do you believe in me, Link?”

“I do.”

She blinked away her tears and gave his hand a grateful squeeze. “Who would have though, just before such a momentus battle…hearing a simple, confident pledge of support from you would be what puts me at ease?”

He smiled at her behind his veil, and she gave his hand one more squeeze before releasing it. “We should head out now. There’s only one way to get close to Naboris, and that’s with the help of a sand seal. Let’s head to the lookout post south of town and discuss strategy there. That way you can get some more practice in.”

 

Link had taken leave of the chief for a moment to catch himself a sand seal. As he headed to the edge of town, where several seals roamed in a pack, he caught sight of a small Goddess statue tucked away in an alley.

He dropped down into the alley to pay his respects and was surprised to find that the neglected statue was not alone.

“What’s a voe doing here?” the elderly Gerudo woman demanded from her seat beside the Goddess. “Surprised? You might be able to fool all the other vai around here, but you won’t fool me so easily. Don’t worry. It doesn’t matter much to me what you do. But…since you came all the way back here, maybe you’d like to stay a bit and chat with old Muava.”

Link raised his eyebrows at her and knelt at the foot of the Goddess. “Nice to meet you too,” he said. “Why do you hide here with the Goddess?

“No one here really believes in that stuff anymore,” Muava said dismissively, “so they tend to avoid stopping here. But someone has to keep the Goddess Statue company, so here I am.”

“And so am I.” Link wanted to speak to the Goddess, but Muava seemed loathe to stop speaking. “Muava, I’m sorry, but I would like to seek the Goddess’s favor before I set out on my journey.”

Muava waved her hand. “Just live your life to the fullest, little voe!” She cackled and leaned away to give him the semblance of privacy.

Link rolled his eyes back to the Goddess.

_You who have conquered four shrines and claimed their spirit orbs, what do you require?_

_Stamina_ , he replied. _I have a long trek across the desert ahead._

_You will have the stamina you seek._

Link reached into his pack and withdrew two Silent Princesses. He left one for the Goddess and gave one to Mauva.

“You seem like an honorable voe,” Mauva told him as he left.

 

Link brought his sand seal ‘round to where Makeela waited for him. Her sand seal was a kind of pink shade that he thought suited the Gerudo chief, and it was bigger than the other seals he had seen.

He had changed into the desert voe armor, and Buliara—for of course Buliara was there—was ready to murder him at the sight of it.

“Where did you get those?!” she demanded gruffly. “Those clothes are strictly outlawed in Gerudo Town!”

“Then it’s a good thing we are not in Gerudo Town,” Link retorted. He shot a look in Makeela’s direction and found her staring quite intently at him. A blush rose in her face when their eyes met. Link quickly turned back to Buliara. “Would you have me wear the silks I had before? Or die of sun exposure before we even reach the Divine Beast?”

Buliara fumed, but she did not add anything.

“Let us waste no more time on this matter,” Makeela said primly. Her voice had risen higher in pitch, Link noticed, but he tried very hard not to notice. “Come! Naboris waits!”

When they reached the southern outpost, Link affixed the Master Sword and his Falcon Bow. The greens and reds of the bow went well with his outfit, he thought. And he was saving his hard-won Lynel bow for later.

“What a sight,” Makeela said breathlessly. Her eyes were locked on to Vah Naboris. “Feeling confident, Link?”

He nodded.

“Good. Here is my strategy. First, we'll use the sand seals to get in really close to that thing. I'll take the lead. I'm counting on you to shoot at its feet with bomb arrows. Naboris draws energy from the ground to keep moving. If you damage the feet, I think you can stop it.”

She accepted the Thunder Helm for Buliara, and she waved her guard off into the outpost. “Those lightning strikes, though... Getting hit even once could prove fatal. The Thunder Helm can repel the lighting strikes, protecting me from harm. But it can also shield a limited area around me. You'll have to stay close if you don't want to be shocked.”

Makeela turned to Link, Thunder Helm stopped halfway on its journey to her head.

“And listen... Link. If you're too injured to keep fighting, promise me you'll retreat here, to the lookout post. Don't do anything reckless under any circumstances.”

Link lowered his head in assent. “But Makeela,” he said in a low voice, “are _you_ confident?”

She bit her lip. “Could you give me a bit of room, just for a moment?”

She finally put the Thunder Healm on fully and walked out until she was ankle-deep in the sand. She spread her arms. “My name is Riju, descendant of the royal line and leader of the Gerudo people! With the power of the heirloom passed down in my family, I shall calm the Divine Beast Vah Naboris. Ancestors of the Gerudo! Answer my call! Aid me in this task!”

She slowly raised her arms to the sky, and Link knew he would have this image of her—this tiny girl, dwarfed by her own hair and the golden helmet atop her head, framed against the leviathan that was the Divine Beast of her people—burned into his memory forever.

He would not forget this.

He heard her whisper something, as she stood there, but he could not hear what was said. As she finished, a powerful green glow emanated from the Thunder Helm and spread wide around her. It threw dust up into his eyes as it expanded to encompass him and the general vicinity of the Gerudo Chieftain.

Makeela turned back to him and put her hands on her hips. “I can feel their power coursing through me!” she exclaimed. The force of her joyous laughter knocked her helmet crooked once more, and she giggled. “Still too big.”


	48. Scourge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R!

“Let’s go!”

Keeping his sand seal inside the circle with Makeela was more of a task than he had anticipated. He was of half a mind to leave the protection of the Thunder Helm and dash to Naboris on his own—but then a purple aura began to target him, and he was glad for the force field. Purple lightning, thick and ropey like physical matter, struck down atop the shield of the Thunder Helm and cascaded like rainwater down the sides. It remained locked on to him no matter how they swerved and threaded between the Divine Beast’s legs.

It took two bomb arrows to knock out but one of Naboris’s hooves. It was the hardest test of his marksmanship to date; every time he raised his arms from the harness of his sand seal, the beast would tug at his midsection and throw off his aim.

Fortunately, Naboris had big feet, and they kept a close enough range that it was difficult to miss.

Finally, Naboris was wracked with shudders and sparks of purple electricity—and then shut down. All of its lights dimmed, and it began to sway in the wind.

“Makeela!” Link shouted. “It’s about to come down!”

They fled just in time to avoid the falling Divine Beast. Its limbs splayed out across the sand, and its mighty crash echoed across the desert for miles.

Makeela jumped off of her shield and took off the Thunder Helm. Her chest rose and fell with her exhilarated breathes, and she shook out her hair with pride.

“Good work,” they said at the same time.

Makeela smiled coyly. “Unfortunately, I cannot appease Naboris on my own. I have no choice but to entrust the rest to you.” They looked up at the dormant Divine Beast. “What do you think you will face in there, Link?”

Link heard the note of concern in her voice and reached for her shoulder to offer comfort. She leaned into him and they stood, with her tucked under his arm, for a long moment. “I will face the scourge of Divine Beast Vah Naboris, and I will free the spirit of Lady Urbosa so that she may look over you again.”

He squeezed Makeela’s shoulder once, then took a step toward Naboris.

 

The Divine Beast woke the moment he set foot on its entrance ramp. Electricity coursed up its legs as it drew itself back up and began its march around the desert once more.

A Guardian woke up the moment he came to the top of the ramp. Before he could even reach the first Sheikah pedestal, it was charging its laser.

He nocked a bomb arrow and took care of it immediately. Then he swept his Slate over the pedestal, claimed his Travel Gate, and alerted Urbosa to his presence.

Link half expected Urbosa to walk out of the Divine Beast to greet him. If any of the Champions had enough fire in their soul to wrest their corporeal form from Ganon’s grasp, it would be her. Yet she did not. Her voice echoed around him as he prepared for his quest ahead.

_Well, well, well… You sure do know how to keep a woman waiting._

“Got a little sidetracked with being dead,” he said flippantly as he took an enhanced Guardian spear from his pack and replaced his battered Guardian shield. “I’m here now. Revali, Mipha, and Daruk have been freed—but I saved the best for last.”

Urbosa’s laugh rang out sharply, and it brought a smile to his face as he pulled on his mail and Champion’s tunic.

_I must say, Link, I have missed hearing your voice for much more_ _than one hundred years… I can’t wait to see you take Naboris back from Ganon! But one thing at a time._

“I’ll get the map,” Link agreed, and he set off.

Just at the top of the next ramp sat a fat Malice eye, but Link took care of it with a regular arrow and continued on unperturbed.

“Your descendant, Makeela Riju, aided me in calming Naboris,” he said as he walked through the empty belly of the Divine Beast. He could see the next Guidance Stone far above him at the opposite end of the room. “She is a child, but she draws strength from your memory. You’d be proud of her.”

_Oh, I am. And I am proud of you, too, Link. I sense more power rolling off of you and your sword than ever before. Would I be mistaken in assuming you’ve finally unlocked the soul of the Hero?_

“I did.” Link was taken aback. He realized now that he did not know just how much he had accomplished in his own past; Fi had spoken to him, then, but had he been in tune with the voice of the Hero? The Goddess? “Urbosa…the Shrine of Resurrection robbed me of my memories. Though I speak with the spirit of the Sword and the soul of the Hero, I still don’t remember everything I should… I’m sorry. I forgot about you.”

 _That’s quite alright, Link._ Urbosa’s voice was gentle, though a tad somber. _You remembered enough courage to get you this far. That’s all that matters._

He examined the map of the Divine Beast, which he just downloaded from the Guidance Stone. He flew down to the main control unit and turned to the right exit, where a Guardian with a sword awaited him. He quickly dispatched it, then turned to look back at the inside of the Divine Beast. He rotated all of the inner chambers so that electricity ran straight through the circuit at the bottom.

Toward the neck of Naboris, he saw a crumbled wall slide into view as a circular opening passed over it. He readied a bomb arrow and released it just as the chamber ceased its rotation; the wall crumbled and revealed a Guardian waiting for him—this one was armed with a battle axe.

Another bomb arrow took care of _that_.

He jumped down and approached, then rotated the same section of Naboris so that he could access the terminal there.

 _Excellent_ , Urbosa said smugly. _But overconfidence can be a deadly foe._

He continued to make his way through the Divine Beast, journeying to its head, its tail, and its back to find the electric circuits needed to activate the various mechanisms that hid the terminals. He found several discarded bomb arrows, two ancient cores, and a Knight’s shield. As he went, he spoke to Urbosa. He found it so easy to slip back into the familiar rhythm of their conversations; he had known her all his life, she told him. She had been a friend of his mother, as well as the Queen.

“Urbosa…did you know of Mipha’s intentions—”

_You may have been mute, Link, but I was not blind. You and I spoke about it often. It troubled you then just as I see that it does now. My dear friend... She never spoke of her feelings to you directly. Just as you never spoke to Zelda of yours._

Link’s ears flared red, and he bit his tongue. Who would have thought a ghost could pin him like this? “It’s much easier to think of now that I am not a knight, and there is no king to behead me.”

 _So you finally accepted it, huh?_ Urbosa chuckled. _I knew you two were kindred spirits in more ways than destiny prescribed._

“The spirit of the Sword showed me the moment Zelda put it to rest,” Link said, setting down one last remote power source to open the gate for the last terminal. “She nearly told the Sword’s guardian that…” Link paused, his Slate hovering over the Sheikah pedestal. “…The Guardian told her to tell me in person.”

 _Link_ , Urbosa called. He wanted to turn, wanted to see her there looking at him with pride and compassion beyond what he deserved. But Naboris remained empty save for him. _You’re doing well. Free Naboris, free me, and let’s get you to your princess, then, shall we?_

Link headed for the main control unit.

 _Be careful, Link…_ Fi seemed more cautious than usual, and he hesitated, Slate in hand. _I sense a greater power in this console than what lay in wait for you on Vah Rudania._

“I feel it too.” He had put on his topaz earrings and sent a prayer up to the Triune Goddesses; there was not much more he could do besides draw the Master Sword preemptively and remember that Mipha, Daruk, and Revali fought within him.

He stepped back to watch what Ganon’s Malice had in store for him. This blight was less massive than the others, but it had a wicked, hooked axe and a Guardian shield of its own.

_Stay on your edge, Link! This formidable adversary was made by Ganon and brought me to a warrior’s demise one hundred years ago… Do not allow this to be your end. Fight for your life…and its death!_

Link winced as the creature screamed at him, and he barely had enough time to raise his shield and parry the blow that suddenly fell on him. Daruk’s protection rose up in him and guided his shield; the Thunderblight was thrown back by the force of the Goron magic.

_This thing is fast! Watch yourself._

Link could hardly see the thing as it zig-zagged through the air; it seemed as though it teleported, and yet it did not vanish into aura when it moved. Link realized, his eyes widening in horror, that it must use the same kind of time-slowing technique that he did. That was the only explanation for how it could cross the whole chamber of Naboris in but an instant.

_Master, I am ready! Fi cried._

When the Thunderblight attacked again, Link parried perfectly and wailed away at the Guardian shield it held. When it broke, the force of it sent the blight spinning to the ground.

Fi sang as she dug deep into its abdomen, and when she encountered resistance, she began to burn with holy light. The Thunderblight screamed and threw out its arms, blowing Link across the room. The golem summoned balls of electricity to its axe-wielding arm and threw them after Link.

Fortunately, they were slow-moving and easy to dodge; unfortunately, they hung in the air almost indefinitely, and it was difficult to keep track of them as he tried to keep his eye on the monster ahead.

It rebuilt its shield out of the aura and lunged for him again. He knew that it would likely slash at him horizontally, and he risked a backflip dodge—and he entered the state of focus he needed to stop time completely. He struck the Thunderblight again and again, severing its long, mangy red hair and cracking its mask. When time began to push by him again, he was nearly exhausted.

 _Beautiful!_ Urbosa roared.

The Thunderblight retreated to the top of the Divine Beast and roared in response. Electricity licked its body, its axe and its shield; it summoned the metal workings of Naboris’ interior out of their place and positioned them like deadly stalactites above Link’s head, imbuing them with the same electricity.

Link ran under a nearby pillar for cover, but he was not fast enough. He was penned in by three electrified metal shafts, and in a burning, searing instant—

A gentle hand stopped him from fading into the darkness.

The Zora Princess cradled him in her arms once again, her healing magic coursing through him. “It is my pleasure,” she said, and kissed his brow.

Link woke with a start; it seemed that only a moment had passed. He rolled out of the way of the electrified shafts and snatched his Slate from its place on his hip. With Magnesis, he stole an electrified shaft from the Thunderblight’s control and slammed it in to the beast as hard as he could.

The golem crashed into the wall of Naboris and slid down its curved side until it was sprawled across the floor. The electrified metal fell to the ground, neutralized, and Link narrowly avoided the heavy rolling machinery as he hurried to the Thunderblight’s side; he was not about to waste this opening.

_Great timing!_

Link was so absorbed in his movements, he could not determine whether it was Fi or Urbosa who praised him.

As the Thunderblight drew itself up once more, Link narrowed his eyes and extended his spirit along the length of the Master Sword. He ran toward the Thunderblight, and with a deft turn, spun just as the Hero had taught him. Divine Light followed the path of the Sword, and it burned a gaping hole through the blight in the wake of the blade.

The Thunderblight lost its aura and writhed as it was destroyed from the inside out. Like on Rudania, the Malice choked Link, and he fell to his knees as his breath was stolen from him.

_**BOY.** _

The voice shook him to his core. It was the voice of a monster; it roared, it snarled, it dripped from the depths of the earth. It raised the hairs on the back of his arms and opened old wounds that had long healed. Visions flashed through his mind: the Hero, impaled by the corrupted shadow of himself; the Hero, utterly broken at the foot of the Gerudo king; the Hero, stepping off the steeple of the Temple of Time; the Hero, take his own life with the Sword that Seals the Darkness in hope that it would seal his soul away, too; the Hero, clinging to the Sword for support as he made his last stand in front of his princess; the Hero, chest and stomach torn open and burned beyond repair.

Link’s body needed to vomit, but he had no air, no control of his muscles. He was paralyzed under the heavy weight of Ganon’s Malice. He knew nothing more powerful than the hatred of the Demon King made incarnate.

_Nothing but the Goddess._

She swept into the arena of his soul and cast out the shadows. She raised him up and shielded him with her wings as she faced her eternal foe.

In Zelda’s voice, she screamed: YOU WILL NOT HAVE HIM.

Link lay on the floor of the Divine Beast and gasped for breath.

Fi cried for him to wake from his nightmare, and he feebly raised his hand to find her. She lay at his side, but he had no strength in his fingers to bring her to rest on his chest. He lay there for a long time as he tried to regain the ability to stand. The desert wind swept through the Divine Beast; it stood still now, a monument in the wastelands.

Finally, Link crawled back up to the main control unit and lay the Sheikah Slate on the pedestal once more.

“Urbosa,” he called breathlessly.

The sound of her heeled shoes announced her arrival.

“I knew you wouldn’t let us down, Link.” She came to stand before him, tall and proud as ever. “Thanks to your valor and skill, my soul is free and Naboris is ours once again. Which means that finally…we can complete what we started years ago.” Her brow furrowed as a savage glare crossed her face. “We Gerudo have no tolerance for unfinished business.”

He took a step closer to her, and her visage softened. She held out her arms for him. “I’ve waited so long for the moment to see you finally rush Hyrule Castle,” she said into his hair. “As well as for the moment when I incinerate Ganon into a pile of ash.”

He laughed a little. “I can’t wait to see it,” he said earnestly.

“Which reminds me… I need to give you a little something.” She held him at arms’ length and released him. “Please accept this gift, which once was known as Urbosa’s Fury.”

The Gerudo Champion held out her left hand and summoned her blessing into a ferocious golden light. She raised her other hand and snapped her fingers sharply to release the ball into him.

He felt her anger, her righteous fury, course through him with the heat of the scorching desert and the chilly calm of the Gerudo Highlands. He braced himself, summoned it to his fingertips, and snapped the tension with his fingers.  
Lightning rained down upon him—as it soon would upon his enemies.

“Both you and the princess…” Link looked up to find Urbosa’s face somber once again. “I know you have suffered much regarding what happened to us Champions. But this is how things had to happen. No one need carry the blame. So please, make it clear so she understands that. Tell her to shed any worries. And let her know…I couldn’t be more proud of her.”

Urbosa did not let a single tear fall; perhaps the desert had dried them all long ago. But the depth of her emotion was clear. Link knew it wasn’t just for Zelda.

“This is not goodbye,” Urbosa said as the Goddess came to sweep him back to Gerudo Town. “My blessing will always be with you. I trust you to take care of the princess…but you can’t blame me for keeping an eye on you anyway.” She winked, and then she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thunderblight was the most difficult for me to beat the first few times I played through BotW, but the Gerudo story arc has always been my favorite. I loved the tender relationship Urbosa had with Zelda, and I imagine that she and Link went way back, just as he and Daruk and Mipha did... Let me know how you liked this spin on things.


	49. Noble Pursuit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R.

Makeela was startled when Link rematerialized in a swirl of golden sparks beside her. He was also startled to find that the Goddess had put him down right next to the Gerudo Chieftain.

And he was still wearing his masculine clothing.

Without saying a word, Riju grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and threw him into her rooms.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Didn’t realize she was going to put me down _inside_ Gerudo Town. I’ll change.”

“‘She’?” Makeela cocked her head and continued to watch him as he pulled his Gerudo clothes out of his pack. “Lady Urbosa?”

“My Goddess.” Link found himself blushing at Riju’s stare. “Uh, Makeela, could you…”

“Ah, yes!” She spun around and covered her face. “My apologies!”

He changed into his traditionally female clothing and allowed himself to finally relax. He leaned against a stuffed sand seal. “I’m done.”

Makeela peeked around her shoulder and saw that he was, indeed, back to presenting as a woman. She jumped to sit by him. She seemed unable to hide the eagerness in her voice. “Naboris is no longer a threat to the town, so I presume you were successful?”

Link nodded. “Urbosa has been avenged, and she’s ready to incinerate Ganon as soon as possible.” He saw something in her face that robbed him of his enthusiasm. “What?”

But Makeela was suddenly silent, and she kept her eyes down as she dragged her fingers in the pools beside them.

Link watched her reflection carefully. _What luxury, to have water run through your room as queen of the desert._ “Makeela,” he said again.

The girl shook off her hand. “The child in me is already mourning your departure.” She stood abruptly and smoothed down her skirt, still avoiding his gaze. “But as the Chief of the Gerudo, I know that you must go. Please allow me to give you something as thanks for your help.”

Link stood reluctantly and followed her out of her rooms and down to the throne room. He wanted to say that they didn’t have to rush out. He wasn’t going to march from the Gerudo Desert to Hyrule Castle _now._ But perhaps she was right. Perhaps he should.

She gestured at Buliara, who summoned two handmaids laden with heavy parcels wrapped in cloth. “These pieces of equipment are priceless treasures of the Gerudo people. They were once worn by Lady Urbosa. Since you and Lady Urbosa were friends, it’s only right that you have them.”

The handmaids unwrapped their gifts and presented them to Link.

“The Scimitar of the Seven, the sword beloved by Lady Urbosa. It is said that when she swung this sword in battle, her movements resembled a beautiful dance. And Daybreaker, her shield. It is considered the pinnacle of Gerudo craftsmanship—a masterpiece of form and function.”

Link accepted the gifts and turned back to Makeela. She had retired to her seat on the throne and looked down on him with a gentle smile. “I will treasure them just as I treasure your hospitality,” he told her. “I hope to enjoy it again someday soon.”

“May they serve you well, Champion.”

A light flashed in Buliara’s eyes, and she lifted her sword once more. “Now…scram!”

Makeela nearly laughed, and Link bowed once, mockingly, and took leave of them.

He did not leave Gerudo Town immediately, however. He continued to wander around the settlement and speak to Makeela’s people. The town was alive with the news that Naboris had been calmed and now rested atop Spectacle Rock like a true guardian of the desert.

He ran into Traysi again, and he gave her the scoop about the Hylian Hero returned from the grave to reclaim the Divine Beasts and cleanse Hyrule Castle of evil. Link felt a little guilty for his deception—and for dawdling here in Gerudo Town when he should be heading straight for Hyrule Castle. Fi slept peacefully, and no monks or Goddesses called out to him, so perhaps he had time.

Truth be told, his reluctance to rush Hyrule Castle was tied up in the knowledge that he would soon see Zelda again…without fully remembering her. Even these bits and pieces she’d left for him were but drops in the gallons-deep bucket of his memory loss. But it would be the least he could do, to try, to meet her again having completed the one task she had given him that wasn’t for the sake of Hyrule—it was just for the two of them.

He wished Fi had eyes. They had traveled together, the Sword, the princess, and her appointed knight, to all of these places. Yet he only had the faintest idea of where the last remaining photographs had been taken.

His frustration led him to take on several favors for the people of Gerudo Town. He found himself fetching ice for the bar, following the statues of swordmaidens, and running head-first into another sandstorm to find hidden Shrines. When he returned to Gerudo Town with his three Spirit Orbs, he _still_ wasn’t allowed to enjoy a Noble Pursuit. He almost wanted to reveal himself as the Hylian Champion and receive the accolades, just to see why it was such a treat, but after a long day crisscrossing the desert, he found that a glass of water and a slice of hydromelon was treat enough.

Link found that he wasn’t tired enough to sleep, but he did not want to return to Hateno to store Urbosa’s legendary weapons. So he finally took his leave of Gerudo Town, and he put on his Rito headdress to brave the desert cold. Armed with a Gerudo scimitar and a golden bow, Link set off with a sand seal for the Gerudo Tower.

He found it surrounded by moblins and bokoblins and octoroks and keese. It was the tallest Tower he had ever seen, but he hacked his way through most of his would-be foes and found a good vantage point to reach the Tower. He summoned Revali’s Gale to give him the last boost he needed and still barely landed on the bottom most platform of the Tower before his arms gave out. He rested there, then summoned Revali’s blessing once more so he could reach the top of the Tower in one go.

He was shocked to find Kass at the top. The minstrel turned just as Link landed, Sheikah Slate already drawn.

They stared at each other for a moment. At last, Kass spoke. “I was playing a song written by my late teacher. He wrote it for the Hero who fell to the Calamity one hundred years ago. No matter how much time had passed, my teacher always kept faith that he would return.” The bard inclined his head to Link. “I did not think that it would summon the Hero himself.”

Link shivered from more than the cold at this altitude. “You knew from the start,” he said.

“Yes.” Kass sighed. “My teacher…he was a court poet for the Hyrulean royal family. He…told me about you. The Sheikah Slate.”

 _Speaking of which._ Link set the Sheikah Slate down in the pedestal and activated the Tower. Kass watched in awe as aura swept into the amber core beneath and above them and distilled the regional information for Link.

He retrieved the Slate and stowed it once more, going over to stand beside Kass at the edge of the Tower. “I watched Divine Beast Vah Naboris take up its perch on Spectacle Rock,” Kass said. “It certainly is a spectacle of its own—locked on to the Castle with the other Divine Beasts that you’ve claimed.”

“Freed,” Link corrected softly.

“I know that it is cold, and the Calamity awaits…but would you care to sit here awhile? I would like to hear about your journey, Hero.”

“Please, Kass,” he said. “It has always been ‘Link.’”

He pulled out wood and his last remaining piece of flint and started a fire right there atop Gerudo Tower, and he sat and talked to Kass until the sun rose. Kass was a great audience; he chuckled and _hmmed_ and looked aghast at all the right places, and he asked for subtle details that Link thought no one but himself would ever appreciate. He was immensely grateful for the company in what would have surely been a lonely night.

Fi woke when the first rays of sunlight fell upon the Tower; Link felt her sharp awareness flare to life behind him, but she did not seem ready to interrupt his tale.

“Thank you for sharing your quest with me, Link,” Kass said. “I know many more ancient songs that were meant for your ears—songs that no doubt lead to more hidden Shrines. If you would ever like to hear them, please find me. I will gladly share them. But I can sense that you have grown much more powerful than that day we first crossed paths near Safula Hill. Do you believe yourself ready to face the Calamity once and for all?”

Link looked out across the desert as the Gerudo Tower’s shadow grew long in the early light. “I might be strong enough, but there are things I must do first.”

“I see.” Kass stood and shook out his feathers. “Well, I will continue my own quest to finish my teacher’s song and discover more ancient verses of the land. I discovered one here yesterday morning:

 _“As light shines from the northwest skies,_  
_From the tower’s shadow an arrow flies._  
_Pierce heaven’s light to reveal the prize.”_

“There’s a suspicious outcropping over there,” Link observed. “The shadow will fall on it just in a few moments, I think. I’ll see what your ancient verse holds in store for me.”  
Kass sent him off with the wheeze of his accordion, and Link glided down to the outcropping he had seen. When the Tower cast its shadow over him, Link let an arrow fly toward the Tower and the sun behind it.

Sure enough—the ground began to rumble, and the Sasa Kai Shrine soon made itself known.

It was a modest test of strength, and he was glad to restock his supply of Guardian swords and spears. When he left the Shrine, he no longer saw Kass watching from above.

Link opened his Sheikah Slate and turned to the album that Zelda had left for him. He decided that he would make his way toward the Castle along the Hylia River; he had plans to enter the Castle from the east, as per Granté’s suggestion, and he would see what he could find, memory-wise, along the way.

 _The princess will call to you when she needs you most,_ Fi assured him. _You need not fear, Master._

“Thanks, Fi.” He took a deep breath and hit the marker for the Bosh Kala Shrine.

On foot, he reached the Riverside Stable before noon and quickly conquered the Wahgo Katta Shrine soon after. He sold several of his superfluous weapons and some of his ores, then continued on his way. As he progressed north, he spied a Shrine on the Floret Sandbar—but when he approached and was immediately screamed at by a flower-crazy Hylian woman he decided that the challenge couldn’t have possibly been worth it.

He would return at night sometime...if he ever returned. For he had realized, as he headed back to shore, that he was in many regards marching toward the end of his life.

He had been awake for a month, and he had explored so much of Hyrule, fallen in love with its vistas and sunrises and peaks and valleys. But how long had he allowed himself to enjoy any of it? And if he were being truthful with himself, how much did he expect to be able to enjoy after all this was over? …Assuming he survived his clash with the Calamity. Would Zelda want to immediately rebuild her kingdom? Would she need her appointed knight? Or would she travel with him, find the remaining Shrines with him, explore the wild with him?

Would she still love him?

He walked into a copse of trees at the river’s edge and paused, his footsteps stalled at the thought that had now dug its claws into his heart and refused to let go. He had had this exact thought before, and he had not found an answer.

He must remember her.

He must…

 

_…keep running._

_That’s all he could think as the rain started to come down. The heavens were crying for them, for these Goddesses-forsaken children whose parents were cut down in front of them and burned alive, whose friends were massacred out of sight even in their one moment of hope, whose homes were razed to the ground by the creations they had thought would save them._

_Link did not begrudge the heavens for their tears, but he would not allow his own to join them._

_They had hardly reached Castle Town when it became clear that all was lost. Link found a Hylian Captain leading a unit from the garrison in an attack on the Guardian Stalkers that swarmed the castle, and the news he brought with him was not good: the king had fallen._

_Zelda, to her credit, heard this and set off straight for the Castle. Her fierce visage was enough to part the seas of people fleeing in the opposite direction, to bolster the morale of her knights and soldiers. Their princess was coming, followed closely by her appointed knight—this had been fated. They would not fail._

_But they_ had _. Zelda had been swallowed up by a billowing cloud of noxious smoke that Link could only describe as the concentrated essence of evil. She was yanked from his side, screaming, praying, desperate, and she disappeared into the smoke._

 _He summoned all his might to cut her free, to carve her shape out of the darkness with the sword that could seal it. Bodies fell out of the smoke: a priestess, a courtier, the king himself. When he finally liberated Zelda from its embrace, the smoke coalesced into the face of the Beast, and it chased them through the halls of the Castle with relentless fury._  
_Link had snatched up the princess’s hand, and they fled._

_Their way was blocked by an army of Guardian Stalkers. The Hylian forces did their best to beat them back; they threw bombs, hot tar, flaming oil—but nothing stopped the Guardians. Nothing but the Master Sword._

_He could not hear Fi. When he had obeyed his body’s instinct to flee, she had fallen silent in his hand. She lent her power to him as much as she always did, biting into metal and stone and flesh and blood with ferocity—but she said nothing to counsel him, to advise him, as he cut a path to safety._

_Castle Town was no more._

_The streets were lined with the bodies of children trampled by clawed, metal feet; their parents were cut down on top of them by the powerful, burning beams of destruction that had been meant to protect them. The smell of burning flesh and hot metal filled his lungs._

_The princess never let go of his hand._

_He was going to get her to Kakariko. He was going to hide her. He was going to die trying._

_The heavens cried._

_Link turned just as she began to slip from his grip, just missed catching her as she fell._

_His momentum carried him one more step forward._

_She was on her knees, covered in mud and soot, and she bowed low, her fingers digging into the mud beneath her._

_“How… How did it come to this?”_

_Never had he heard her more upset; her spirit was broken beyond repair. He had nothing—nothing—to say that could give her strength. If he spoke at all, now, he would have no strength for himself, for the both of them, to keep them moving._

_Link fell to one knee before her._

_“The Divine Beasts…the Guardians… He turned them against all us!” Her hands curled into fists in the mud as she kept her tears at bay. “And everyone” —she raised her face to him slowly. She was losing her battle with her eyes; teardrops gathered, ready to spill— “Mipha, Urbosa, Revali, and Daruk… They’re all trapped inside those things.”_

_Zelda looked at him now. Her expression was more open and earnest—and tired—than she had ever allowed it in front of him. She searched his face for something; he did not know what she looked for, but what she found broke her completely._

_“It’s all my fault!” Her fists flew to her face, and she covered herself, she hid, she beat herself. “All my friends, the entire kingdom, my father most of all…All is lost because I couldn’t harness this cursed power!”_

_The words and the tears all burst out at once, and the last of her strength fled her. He caught her as she finally collapsed under the weight a decade of self-hatred and anger and fruitless devotion._

_“And…and I’ve..” She could hardly speak for the sobs that wracked her body. Her nails dug into his torn tunic. “I’ve left them all to die!”_

_Her words hit him like a laser strike and burned a hole right through his chest. He felt the sharp shards of his broken words tear in his throat as he tried to get them out, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t._


	50. Lomei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining me for 50 chapters and over 2000 hits! Let me know how you like WWW so far.

Link walked to Castle Town along the very path he had taken one hundred years ago. He fled from the bitter memory he had recovered, and he tried to replace the taste of burning metal and tears and blood that haunted is mouth—with more burning metal and blood. He fought every Guardian Stalker he saw on his way across the Hyrule Fields. He severed their legs and climbed onto their heads, safe from harm; there, he had the perfect vantage point to drive the Sword into their eyes.

He reached the Sacred Ground ruins and paused there to recuperate. His Hylian traveling clothes were singed and drenched in sweat, and he washed his face and the back of his neck in the water of the fountain that had kept running all these years. He knew that this was a place that was important to him. The symbol of the Triforce remained, each segment engraved with the respective symbols of Farore, Din, and Nayru—with Hylia’s crest in the center.

He knelt in the center to dry and take stock of the area. The sun beat down from above and dried his face, and the wind whispered through the silent ruins…

 

_“Hero of Hyrule, chosen by the Sword that Seals the Darkness—”_

_He knelt before his princess, within the confines of the Triforce, and listened carefully to her words, though she said them dolefully. He could not shake the feeling that he knew these words by heart, though this was the first time he had ever heard them._

_“You have shown unflinching bravery and skill in the face of darkness and adversity, and have proven yourself worthy of the blessings of the Goddess Hylia.”_

_Fi resonated with the words, though she, like him, did not feel the true power of Hylia’s blessing._

She does not believe she is worthy to give a blessing _, Fi whispered to him; he knew that._ You must remind her of who she truly is.

_But he did not know how._

_He wished he could not feel the eyes of the other Champions on him. Link had been careful to avoid all of their gazes when Daruk suggested this blessing ceremony. He had caught one glimpse of the princess’s stricken expression, and he knew he would not be able to maintain his placid, Hero-face if he looked at any one of them._

_This blessing—it had been given to him before. He knew that. He felt it. He heard the tones of other voices hidden in hers, all of them belonging to the same woman over the centuries. Yes, he was the Hero. He could not deny it. But it was foolish to think that this prayer, once crafted with love most holy, would unlock the power in this woman who resented him so._

_"Gee, this is uplifting. She’s making it sound like we already lost.”_

_Link’s ears twitched when he heard Daruk’s sorry excuse for a whisper. He had very rarely wanted to strike the Goron Champion (unlike Revali), but this was certainly one of those moments. The princess stumbled over her words, and her baleful tone grew quieter._

_“Whether skyward bound, adrift in time, or steeped in the glowing embers of twilight…”_

_“You’re the one who wanted to designate the appointed knight with all the ceremonial pomp, grandeur, and nonsense we could muster!” Revali hissed. He was slightly better at keeping his voice down, but he did remained loud enough to be heard. “And if you ask me, the whole thing does seem to be overkill. I think I’m on the same page as the princess regarding…this boy.”_

_Fi was not fond of Revali, especially when he was distracting her from the few words in history that had ever been written just for her._

_“…You are forever bound to Blade of Evil’s Bane. We pray for your protection, and we hope that the two of you will grow strong together, as one.”_

_“Oh, give it a rest.” Urbosa’s voice was an artful balance of utter exasperation and compassionate pity. Link had to strain his ears to hear Urbosa; perhaps the princess did not hear. “That boy is a living reminder of her own failures. Well, at least that’s how the princess sees him.”_

_“Ancient Blade, forged in the long-distant past… Guardian of Hyrule, ancient steel, forever bound to the Hero. In the name of the Goddess Hylia, I bless you, and your Chosen Hero. Our hope rests in you to be forever by the Hero’s side. Again we pray that the two of you will be stronger, together as one.”_

_The prayer was finished, yet the princess’s mournful words hung heavy in the air. Link would not stand until he was addressed. He was not just another Champion. He wanted to stand up and tell all of them off for openly expressing such disappointment in the princess. He wanted to look up at her and address her as he_ knew _her to be. But he knew his place. He was a sharp weapon in the hands of the Princess of Hyrule. He was an arrow to be loosed at an enemy, century after century after century—and his aim was true._

 

One hundred years ago, he had been born into the world with a broken soul full of resentment and despair. _And so had she._ Hylia may be merciful, but she had no hand in creating the world. She suffered as much as any of her people did, for the Golden Goddesses were born before the concept of kindness. The world they created was undoubtedly unkind.

Link stared up at the castle as it churned with the evil that had swallowed his princess a hundred years ago, and he had to wonder if they had been swallowed by it many years before the Calamity ever woke.

 

He had been foolish to think that he was ready to enter the castle. Castle Town swarmed with Guardian Stalkers and Decayed Guardians he had certainly crippled one hundred years ago. He hardly made it five feet into the Town before he was covered in the red sights of an army of living Guardians. Even with his Hero-learned ability to slow time to a crawl, even with his Ancient arrows, he stood no chance. He was forced to retreat with the Sheikah Slate.

All eyes were on him as he walked from the Shrine toward the Wetland Stable. He sat heavily at the cooking pot, though he had no plans to use it. People generally didn’t talk to him if he sat there.

But Beedle was always the exception.

Beedle came up to him, a hearty lizard clutched in hand. “Linky,” the merchant said breathlessly, “are you hurt?”

Link shook his head.

“Are you sure? You…you just came from the Fields, right? You’re so burnt—”

“Beedle.” Link took a long, measured breath. “I’m fine.” Beedle withdrew the lizard, and their confused, even slightly hurt expression gave Link a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired and on edge. I ran into several Guardians and just made it out.”

Beedle’s eyes widened. _“‘Several Guardians’!_ And you’re alive?!”

Link winced. That would be fodder for enough rumors to fill Traysi’s next three volumes, certainly. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well…I guess I’ll leave you to it. I was going to give you this.” Beedle exchanged his lizard for a single Ancient arrow. “I bought it off a fellow named Granté, and I immediately thought of you. It seems I was a little too late to be useful.”

Link looked up at the merchant—his friend—with wide, suddenly teary eyes. His brow knit together as he tried to process the merchant’s kindness. “Beedle, that’s worth nearly one hundred rupees. Can I give you a topaz in return?”

“No, no.” Beedle pushed the arrow into his hands. “Just… always come back from the Fields, okay? You’re one of my best customers.” Beedle shouldered the giant beetle backpack he carried with him everywhere. “I’m catching a ride on this caravan that’s about to leave, but I just had to say hi, Linky!”

Link rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and offered Beedle a weak smile. "Thanks, Beedle."

Beedle waved goodbye and left Link to think by the fire.

 

He headed back to Hateno, first. He wanted to drop off Urbosa’s prized arms at his house for safe-keeping and to take the opportunity to bathe. Then he traveled to Akkala to visit the Great Fairy Mija and enhance his armor as much as he could. Considering that he was laden with more Ancient parts than he knew what to do with, it was a good call; with a star fragment and two giant ancient cores, he was able to upgrade his Ancient armor to the full amount.

“If you want to upgrade your Champion’s tunic, you’ll need twenty Silent Princesses and two shards of Dinraal’s horn, two shards of Naydra’s horn, and two shards of Farosh’s horn,” Mija told him. “Now, it may be bad business for me, but it would be much faster for you to find the Springs and pray for the blessings of the Golden Goddesses. You’ll still need to bring an offering form each of their Guardians, but I believe you only need one scale—rather than several pieces of those poor things’ horns.”

“Thank you, Mija,” Link said, and he ducked out of the way before she could snatch him in for a kiss.

He was close, so he decided to visit the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab. It was hard to believe it had only been a week since he'd first arrived there with Granté and met his parents...

Jerrin, Granté’s mother, was the only one in the lab when he entered. “Hello, Link!” She sniffed the air, then narrowed her eyes. He froze under that look. “There’s something different about you… I can smell a new kind of magic on you!”

 _Well that could be anything,_ Link thought wryly. The Champion’s blessings, the upgrades from Mija…the Master Sword.  
“Did I miss Granté?”

“By a day or two,” she admitted. “I wish I could tell you where he headed…but…”

He shrugged sadly and went to feed Cherry as many materials for Ancient arrows as he could. Granté’s mother returned to her readings, and Link watched her for a few moments in silence as the Ancient Oven powered up.

“Jerrin, you’re also a researcher, right?”

“Yes. My focus is Shrines. Do you have questions?” Her eyes flashed. “Or some sort of notes from your travels?”

“I have a bunch of photos from each of the Shrines I’ve encountered, but I’m trying to find the Springs of Courage and Power. Granté said he thought one of them is in Akkala.”

“If you show me those photos, I’ll tell you what I know.”

She poured over the photos as the ancient oven churned out Ancient arrows. Link tied them into bundles as Jerrin took notes. By the time he’d run out of Ancient parts, he Jerrin had almost filled a whole pad of paper.

“I do have some information for you,” she said, setting down her pen. “The Spring of Power is said to reside in Akkala. Robbie said that the princess would come to Akkala to pray often, as a young girl. He doesn’t remember the exact location, and the most accurate maps of Hyrule were lost in the Calamity.”

Link leaned over to open the Sheikah Slate’s map.

“Well then,” Jerrin said. “I think there’s only one place it could be, don’t you?”

She placed a golden marker over a small body of water to their southwest. “But I’ve also heard rumors that Din’s dragon can be seen roaming the edges of the Eldin provinces. I’ve never seen it myself, but Granté said that one day when he was trying to reach the Labyrinth north of here, he saw it flying out of a strange cyclone in the sky, toward Death Mountain.”

Link nodded. “Did he reach the Labyrinth?”

Jerrin shook her head. “Its walls are too high to climb, especially for a child. Granté was only ten at the time, and we gave him quite the talking-to for risking his life like that on a makeshift raft! Now that he's older, Granté thinks that the legendary hookshot wielded by the Hero might be necessary to enter it.”

_We’ll see about that._

Link collected his Slate and said goodbye to Granté’s mother. He was a little sad that he had missed Granté; he wanted to show his friend the Sword of Legend and introduce Fi to someone who might truly appreciate her splendor.

He climbed to the top of the lab, scaring Robbie as he climbed past his window. When he reached the top, he looked out at the floating Labyrinth. The evening seemed clear, and the weather promised to be mild, so he summoned Revali’s Gale and dove toward the island.

As he drew closer, he saw the Shrine inside and the patrols of Skywatcher Guardians all around the top of the island. He wasn’t even sure that Revali’s Gale would be enough to get him from the floor of the Labyrinth up to the top of the walls. Once he was inside, he might very well be forced to complete it.

But if he wanted to spot Dinraal, he’d have to reach the vantage point of the Shrine and climb higher.

He landed at the mouth of the maze and heard the distant chant of a Sheikah Monk.

_You who have reached this distant isle…test your guile within this maze, and you will receive a blessing._

As the monk’s voice faded, the Guardian Stalker at the distant end of entrance hall woke from its slumber. Link raised his shield in time to parry it with some help from Daruk’s blessing, then charged forward to sever its legs. He might not be able to take on an army of Guardians yet, but one was a surmountable task.

Link looked down at his map on the Slate and left markers on all the paths he could find that led to the center where the Shrine lay hidden. The ones on the left hand side were almost entirely blocked off by walls—at least from above—which meant there had to be a secret entrance there.

He set off through the Labyrinth with Fi as his guiding light. There were enough corrupted Guardians flying around the Labyrinth that her divine power was unlocked…and the Labyrinth was dark.

He encountered several chuchus and keese as he went but no more Guardian Stalkers. And with Magnesis as his eyes, he was able to find several discarded weapons—perhaps from ancient adventurers trying to find their way to the treasure inside—and the final secret wall that blocked his path from connecting to the parts of the maze he had guessed were connected to the Shrine.

When he saw lantern light in the distance, he knew he was close.

He found a Great Flameblade soon thereafter, hidden by a tangle of nasty thorns and Malice, then followed his Sheikah Sensor to the Tu Ka’loh Shrine.

_To you who sets foot in this Shrine… I am Tu Ka’loh. By reaching this Shrine, you have proven your worth._

Link approached a small altar to find a helm of sorts enshrined there. It was made from the skull of some formidable monster—a monster that had a red mane, similar to the flaming hair each Blight had sported. The Sheikah Slate lit up when he held it, and he opened its index in the Hyrule Compendium to find instructions for war paint said to increase one’s attack power. _Knowledge of an ancient tribe who roamed Hyrule long before the creation of the Divine Beasts._

Link accepted his Spirit Orb and left the Shrine to find a new development: not only had the bars that hid the Shrine opened, but a giant block of stone in the floor had disappeared. A strong gale roared from the hole it left, and Link looked down to find a long shaft that seemed to lead into another room.

On the wind, Link thought he heard someone calling his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've divided up WWW into several parts for my own organization:  
> \- The Wild (Mid Spring)  
> \- Vah Medoh  
> \- Vah Ruta  
> \- Road to the Lost Woods (Late Spring)  
> \- Vah Rudania  
> \- Vah Naboris
> 
> Now, we begin a section I have called... The Three Goddesses.


	51. Curses and Heresy.

The room he had fallen into was a giant arena, and it was filled with decayed Guardians and dormant Stalkers. In the center was a pedestal, upon which lay something golden and shining.

 _No treasure is worth this,_ he thought as he prepared his glider to ride the draft back up.  
But the wind had ceased.

_Hero of Hyrule. You have done well to venture here, but I have sensed your doubt._

This was not the voice of a monk. It was a voice that sent him to his knees, that spoke in the language that had sang his soul into being. It was a voice older than the Goddess Herself.

_I will not allow you to seek my Guardian and approach my Spring until you prove your Power to me! Face your fear, Hero!_

The Guardians woke.

Link’s heart was in his throat as he ran for cover, but there were so few places to hide. “Fuck!” he hissed. Mist swirled around his feet as he ran, and judging from the dust and sand that covered the arena, he was the first living thing to enter this room in over ten thousand years.

He took a gamble and dove behind one still-dormant decayed Guardian and prayed that he could draw his bow faster than the Stalkers could approach.

Daruk’s blessing swelled in him as the the Guardians charged their beams in unison; Link notched an Ancient arrow and leaned around his hiding spot to find himself face to face with a Stalker.

He lodged an Ancient arrow in its eye and ducked back out of the way before the other Guardians could lock on to him again. He tried to breathe evenly, but panic continued to rise in his chest.

He drew his Sword once more and activated his last remaining enhanced Guardian Shield. _I have guile, and stamina, and strength,_ he reasoned with himself. _Why do I doubt myself?_

Because he had _died_ , that’s why.

Daruk’s blessing would protect him from the brunt of the blast, and Mipha would drag him back from the edge of death, but he didn’t dare exhaust them. Urbosa’s Fury would paralyze the Guardians, but would he have enough time to destroy any of them before the lightning wore off?

 _Focus_ , he told himself.

His grip on the Master Sword soothed the wild panic that the Ancient Goddess had stirred up in him with Her presence. Link closed his eyes and tried to remember that he was more than flesh and blood, that he was more than this young body; he wielded his own soul in the fight against evil, and it had always been enough.

He stepped out of his hiding place and raised his Sword; its blade shown like a star as his spirit flared with confidence. The Guardians’ lasers charged, and the moment they fired, Time stopped. Link swung his blade, unleashed Urbosa’s Fury, Hylia’s Divine Light, and his very soul upon his foes.

The Decayed Guardians exploded in slow-motion, but the last two Stalkers remained. Their limbs sparked and jerked as they began to malfunction, but their lasers certainly worked. Link took a running leap toward the closest Stalker, and in the split-second he had, he fired one Ancient arrow into its eye and spun around to give its companion the same treatment.

His Ancient boots slid in the dust as he landed. His chest heaved from exertion, but he felt like he could take on another dozen Stalkers easily.

 _Your wish will soon be granted,_ said the Goddess Din, though there was no telling if she said it with dark humor or not; the Golden Ones were older than humor. _Now, take the circlet of Light and leave this place. Dinraal awaits you_.

Link sheathed his Sword and fetched all the ancient parts left behind by the Guardians and finally, finally, approached the pedestal at the center of the room. Upon it lay a gold circlet like a wreath of leaves; at the center lay a clear, beautiful diamond. In the murk of the chamber, it seemed that a spark of Divine Light was trapped inside the gemstone.

 _It was crafted to harness the power of the Light,_ Fi said. _Wearing it will weaken any blow dealt by Darkness, similar to your amber armor._

Link immediately fixed the wreath upon his head. He had just proved to himself and to an ancient being that he could defeat scores of Guardians in one blow, but the more resistance he had to Ancient technology and Ganon’s Malice, the better.

The updraft had reappeared, and Link rode the hot winds back up to the Tu Ka’loh Shrine.  
With Revali’s Gale, Link reached the top of the Labyrinth. Din’s Guardian Spirit had indeed appeared; it clawed its way out of the vortex in the sky and began to make its winding way toward the Akkala coastline.

With his Sheikah Slate, he returned to the Tech Lab. He could still see Dinraal approaching, so he once again climbed to the top of the lab and summoned the last bit of Revali’s blessing he could muster. The boost got him close to the dragon, but there were plenty of updrafts near the beast to keep him aloft. Where its magma-hot body touched the cool marine air, mighty winds stirred, and they brought with them hymns to the Goddess of Power.

Link closed his glider and notched a simple arrow, aiming for the dragon’s shoulder. He was fairly certain that even if he tried to hit Dinraal’s horn, it would be incinerated before it got close; they seemed to be pure lava.

A shining scale was knocked loose and fell, carried westward on a wind. The dragon continued on, unperturbed.

Link glided after his prize and landed deep in the Akkala Wild. When he collected the scale, he found that it was as large as Naydra’s—and hot to the touch. He quickly wrapped it up and put it in his pack.

He took out his Slate to return to the Tech Lab, but the Slate began to vibrate. They were close to a Shrine.

He followed the vibrations further west and came to Skull Lake. He could tell that the Shrine must lie on top of the right eye of the lake, because there was…something else on the let. He decided to investigate that something first, while he regained enough stamina to build up another burst of Revali’s Gale.

When he landed on the little island, he was startled at what he saw. It seemed that what he was looking at was a dark version of the traveling shop Beedle carried. It was decorated with childish caricatures of skulls, and a strange purple balloon rested in the center of its roof—glowing.

Link couldn’t see the merchant at first; their strange outfit was just as clumsily made as the rest of their shop, and they blended in quite well. He finally realized he was looking at the merchant’s backside and cleared his throat politely.

The merchant whirled around and nearly jumped out of his skin. His shriek was loud enough to shatter glass. Link nearly jumped as well; the merchant was the ugliest creature he had ever seen. And he had faced _Blights_. Certainly this man was no Hylian…  
And yet, he did not move to attack Link, so hopefully he wasn’t a threat.

“Ah. It’s just a Hylian.” The merchant put his face down on his hands and gasped for breath.

“Who are you?” Link asked.

“My name is Kilton.” Kilton raised his head and offered Link a tentative smile. “I suppose you’re here because you heard I was opening a monster shop and you wanted to see it for yourself.”

_A monster shop?_

“Unfortunately, I’m still preparing for the grand opening of Fang and Bone… Most monstrous deals in all of Hyrule!”

“Monster shop?”

Kilton’s smile faltered. “Yes. Do you, uh… Are you into monsters?”

Link blinked at him. “Um... Gotta love ‘em?”

“I LOVE MONSTERS MORE THAN YOU DO!” Kilton slammed his fists down on the counter in front of him, and Link jumped. Kilton’s fierce glare disappeared and he put his head down on the counter again. “I did it again,” he moaned. “I just love the field of monster research _so much!”_

“So you’re a researcher?” Link asked slowly.

“I travel all around Hyrule in search of rare and exciting monster parts. But as a shop, here’s the deal: if you bring me monster parts, I’ll exchange them for mon. It’s a currency I’ve created because _I love monsters!”_

“What do I buy with mon?” Link raised his eyebrows. “Arrows?”

“No! I have so many things. _So many things._ ” Kilton pulled out a catalog of items, and Link was amused to find that Kilton hand-made masks to look like monsters. “The masks help you blend in with monsters! As long as you walk like them and don’t attack, they won’t attack you! They’ll even follow you around!” Kilton’s eyes gleamed. “Isn’t it amazing! Like I said, I haven’t made enough to start selling, yet…but you’ll soon be able to find me all around the major villages in Hyrule! I even plan on making my way to the Gerudo Desert!”

And then—somehow—Kilton vanished, shop and all. Link jumped at the sight. Or, rather, lack thereof.

He pondered the strange turn of events as he summoned a refreshed Revali’s Gale to give him a boost toward the Zuna Kai Shrine, where he found a blessing awaiting him.

He glided down through the North Akkala Valley and narrowly avoided getting shot down by the blue-maned Lynel that had made its home there. He dropped to the ground and ran the rest of the way out of the valley and made it to the ridgelands…which were patrolled by powerful bokoblin bosses on horseback.

Link took a blind, running jump off the side of a cliff and glided into what was undoubtedly the Spring of Power. He landed right at the foot of the Goddess statue.

 _Dear One,_ she said. _You have proven yourself to the Goddess of Power and received a prize from Dinraal, the red spirit who tends to this Spring. Offer this scale to the Spring of Power. The Golden Goddess watches._

Din did not speak as he placed the scale in the water at the foot of the Goddess Statue. It melted away into divine light, just as Naydra’s had at the top of Mount Lanayru.

Din continued to watch as Link fell to his knees and remembered the first—and last—time he had stood in those waters.

  
_“I come seeking help…regarding this power that has been handed down over time.”_

_Link stood at the entrance to the Spring, his back to the princess. She had not asked him to, but he could not help but feel that he was not supposed to see this. He could feel the magic thrum all around him, all a response to_ her _presence._

_He knew something important was coming._

_“‘Prayer will awaken your power to seal Ganon away’… Or so I’ve been told all my life.”_

_Link heard her hands splash down in the water behind him as they left their prayerful pose. Or at least, he hoped that’s what he had heard; if she collapsed in the water… No. He fought the urge to turn._

_“And yet… Grandmother heard them—the voices from the spirit realm. And Mother said her own power would develop within me. But I don’t hear…or feel anything!”_

_Zelda’s voice rose in desperation, but she did not shout at the Goddesses. Not yet. “Father has told me time and time again—he always says, ‘Quit wasting your time playing at being a scholar!’”_

_There was a moment’s pause, then a loud splash. Link allowed himself a glance over his shoulder to see Zelda standing tall, her head bowed in anger, fists curled and ready to strike._

_“Curse you!”_

_He felt the agony in her words, though he did not know whom she cursed: her father, herself, or the Golden Goddess._

_“I’ve spent every day of my life dedicated to praying! I’ve pleaded to the spirits tied to the ancient gods…and still the holy powers have proven deaf to my devotion!”_

_Her anger fled, chased out by despair. The tension in her body broke and she hugged herself tightly, on the verge of collapse. “Please just tell me… What is it…?”_

_The magic that Link felt snapped—and vanished. He allowed himself to break his watchful stance, clutching the sheathed Master Sword in his right hand as he turned to face her. Words rose in his throat that he hardly dared to say._

_“What’s wrong with me?!”_

_“Princess.”_

_She froze, her hands tight around her arms. She did not turn to him, did not speak. He had broken the illusion that he had not been listening, that she had been speaking in private. Perhaps she thought he would shame her for her heresy, or encourage her as her father did to keep praying._

_But Link did not believe in prayer._

_“Nothing’s wrong with you,” he said. His voice was quiet, but he tried to communicate_ everything _in it._ Look at me. You’re not a failure. I’d die for you. _“That’s the cruelty of it. We’re cursed, Princess. Don’t you remember?_ ”

  
Link shuddered in the wake of the memory. Hylia’s presence had fled the Spring, but Din’s presence remained strong—for she stood behind him in the very spot he had one hundred years ago.

She had been the one to tell him his strength was not enough, after he completed the Sword Trials and defied the monks; she took on the same form now, of a Sheikah Elder leaning heavily on a staff.

“You have woken us from our slumber, Hero,” she said. Her voice was measured and mighty, but she did not speak to him with contempt as she had before. “You and our most loyal daughter have done penance for your heresy, and you have done well to seek my approval. Go, face your foes with your Power and my blessing. Your path has shown itself.”

She slammed the butt of her staff on the platform, and she vanished as the Shrine revealed itself to him.

_To you who sets foot in this Shrine… I am Tutsuwa Nima. In the name of the Goddess Hylia, I offer this combat trial._

Of course it was a Major Test of Strength. But now, ten days since he had last attempted a similar Trial, Link held the Master Sword—and rather than something to prove, Link had things to practice.

The skyward strike was not enough to defeat the Guardian, but one more crowd-clearing charge was. He added another complete set of Guardian weapons to his collection and collected his eighth Spirit Orb.

 


	52. Light in the Dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps the most liberty I have taken, but I needed a trial for Link to complete before he sought Farore's approval. For symmetry! It makes more sense to me for the Thyphlo Ruins to be near the Zonai Ruins, given their similar motifs.

When he left the Shrine, he stepped back into the deep waters and went to stand in front of the Goddess Statue. His Goddess waited for him, her Chosen Hero.

He closed his eyes and relished the feeling of her magic within him. Her presence rippled the water around him like a wind he did not feel with his skin but rather with his soul. “Using my Courage to stand up to your Mothers,” he noted, softly.

The Goddess laughed and withdrew, leaving him with the stamina he sought, twice over.

He crossed Hyrule in an instant, and sunlight followed him. When he glided down from the Great Plateau and landed at the Bridge of Hylia, the bitterness of his reclaimed memory had been washed away by the sound of her laughter.

He was so close. So close to hearing her laugh, seeing her smile. His soul felt lighter than it had one hundred years ago, though it certainly should have been heavier—carrying the weight of a thousand thousand lives within him. If he could impart that lightness to her, even just a little, perhaps all of this would have been worth it.

Farosh greeted him just as Link crossed the middle of the bridge. The dragon burst from the waters below, electric globes in tow; the surface of the water churned with heat and wind and its grasping claws. It climbed upward, passing just over his head. He carefully dodged the electric charges that traveled with Farosh, and he readied his bow.

This dragon was familiar to him in a way that the others weren’t. Had he seen Farosh in the wilderness one hundred years ago? Or had it been longer than that, another lifetime, another age?

He dislodged a scale from the dragon’s belly and it landed right at Link’s feet. How could it not? The dragon passed so close overhead that he could almost reach out and pluck another scale by hand.

Link shocked himself when he picked up the scale, but after its initial discharge it seemed to simmer down. He held it close to him as he stood there and watched Farore’s Guardian Spirit as it led the very _realm_ in songs of praise to the Courageous One.

Only when the dragon had returned to the heavens did Link finish crossing the bridge. He had no goal in mind, now; he did not know where the Spring of Courage lay, without a map—so his first step would certainly be to fix that.

Just a short walk from the end of the bridge, Link came across a fortified bokoblin camp. It swarmed with bluehides and lizalfos, and they lined both the bottom and top of the crags, making it difficult to surpass. He tried to climb around their forces, but the base of the Tower was surrounded.

Fortunately, it had begun to rain, and his footsteps were cloaked in the cloudburst. He made it halfway up the Tower with a burst from Revali’s Gale before any lizals saw him—and by then he was too high up for them to do much about it.

At the top of Tower, he could look out across most of Hyrule. Naboris’ tracking beam shot past him to his immediate west, and he could hear the distant thrum of its electricity and mechanics as it concentrated. The _Beast_ , the stone and aura and metal inside, concentrated. Urbosa’s spirit simply directed the Sheikah creation.

He could see the other three Beasts doing just the same task, ready to enact their vengeance upon the thing that had corrupted them, abused them, would have turned them against the people and land they were divinely driven to protect. The vengeance was as much theirs as it would be their pilots’.

He could feel it, now, with a strange clarity. Perhaps it was part of Din’s blessing. There is a kind of Power that can only be wielded in retribution, that can only be loosed with righteous wrath. It is not Courageous and it is not Wise, but it is Powerful—and honored, and ancient. Far more ancient than the Divine Beasts. As ancient as he was, and he had already been ancient when the Sheikah first mastered the art of amber and aura.

Link glided down the road. The sea was not too far from him, and he felt a strange calling on the wind that came from the coast. The Menoat River is curled away from him toward the ocean, and he turned toward the Faron Woods. He touched down just at the point where the road disappeared into the trees—and where a Yiga blademaster lay in wait.

His booming laughter preceded his appearance and gave Link a perfect lock on his location. For some reason, voices always travel faster through charms of transportation than bodies. Perhaps it’s that spoken spells were around long before written ones, that the fabric of the universe was sung into a tapestry by three Voices in the Dark.

Regardless of _why_ , it was particularly handy when one’s opponent insisted on an evil cackle with every spell.

He lodged a shock arrow in the man’s knee and stalked forward as he fell. He kicked away the folded steel sword and drew his own. A pulse of starlight ran down the edge of the blade, not in response to any Malicious presence but a visceral extension of his own anger.

Even with the man hobbled and on one knee, Link barely stood as tall as him. Yet when the tiny young man stood on tip-toe to rip off the Yiga’s mask, the man’s expression beneath it was one of terror.

Before Link could make much of an observation of the man’s face, he noticed a glint of dark, murderous mischief appear in the Yiga’s eyes.

He moved on reflex. One moment, he stood facing the Yiga, mask in his right hand and Sacred Sword in his left; the next, he is several feet away, blade embedded in the foot of the Yiga archer whose arrows had missed their mark and killed exactly who they were meant to protect.

Link did not hear the woman’s screams over the pump of blood in his ears, the bloodlust of the Sword shared in his soul. He closed his eyes and tried to _focus_.

“Why?” he demanded when he opened his eyes. The woman had fallen to the ground, hunched over her pierced foot, still sobbing and shrieking in agony. He ignored it. “Tell me why you are in this battle, and I’ll let you go crawling back to Ka’loh.”

He wrenched the Sword out of her foot and whipped the blade sharply to his left, scattering blood across the road.

The woman looked up at him, face hidden behind her mask, but she hiccuped roughly and whimpered something he could not hear, something that sounded like _please_. Then she crawled over to her now-deceased companion, draped herself over him, and vanished with his body in tow.

Link took a long, deep breath and let his tension flow out of him when he finally released it once more. His skin prickled with magic that was not his own but felt familiar. It made his heart race.

He was close, and it was affecting him. He felt _wilder_.

He continued along the path, strung along by the faint vibrations of the Sheikah Slate at his hip and the taste of magic in the air. It was stale; it was not _ancient magic_ but magic that was old, that had been cast about this place so long ago that its purpose was lost. It hung about the forest like a fog that he could not see but he could feel against his skin.

He had walked in the presence of this brand of magic before, but he could not remember. It was a memory from before—before he had become the Hero—and it was a memory lost to Time.

Ruined pillars, the mark of an ancient civilization that had called these woods its home, rose up around him. Most were worn smooth or matted with thick moss and grass, but on some he could make out the serpentine and avian motifs that he had seen in the Lomei Labyrinth. These markings, too, were older than he could recall; they had been old when he had first been young. These were the ruins of the First People, the first of the Goddesses’ creations.

He walked among them and found several hearty truffles and radishes growing at their bases, and, eventually, the Shrine hidden there in the ruins. It was a minor test of strength, and he did Pumaag Nitae proud.

When he returned to the woods, he heard the distant sound of an accordion, and he set off at a run in search of Kass.

“So deep in the forest!” he called as he approached the bard.

Kass’s eyes crinkled with pleasure. “I came to be close to the Heroes of old,” he said. “It is said that this forest has often been home to them. I learned an ancient verse about this place from the Sheikah, but I am searching for songs older still.”

Link tilted his head curiously. A Shrine song might lead him to the Spring he sought. Kass sensed his interest and fingered his accordion.

_“Where the forest dragon splays its jaws,_   
_A Shrine sleeps with noble cause.”_

The Rito watched curiously as Link opened his map. “Not the real dragon,” Link said absently. “I doubt it’s in Lake Hylia.”

“‘Real dragon’?” Kass repeated. _“My,_ Link.”

There was too much to tell Kass, and Link was too filled with restless energy to sit and run through it all. He had seen something on his map and now that he had a distinct place to be, he wanted to set out on his way. “Kass,” he said apologetically and gratefully all at once.

“It is drawing near, isn’t it?” Kass’s voice was deeper, as though he were talking about a nasty storm system on the horizon. “Go, Link. Go. May light illuminate your path.”

Link set off north through the remnants of the Zonai civilization and searched for the tail end of the Dracozu River. As he made his way deeper into the jungle, he felt that he picked up companions he could not see—echoes of individuals who had made the trek before him, from their homes to the Spring of Courage, seeking Farore's blessing.

He drew his Sword for company that he _could_ see, _could_ feel with his five senses and not only with that sixth, strange, divine sense.

It was good that he had drawn the Sword, for a moment later the world went pitch black. All he heard was the distant shriek of monkeys, the chirp of crickets…and laughter. Fi was the only light in the world, and as he raised her he found himself face-to-face with a giant serpent carved of stone. Several more fallen pillars lined the path; they stuck out of the ground at odd angles, half-buried by Time.

He dug in his pack for a torch, but it would not light. Only the Sword could pierce this darkness.

He followed his gut and set off into the gloom. Very soon, he came across a lamp shaped like an eagle. Its wings pointed straight behind it, and its beak pointed somewhere ahead and to his right.

He somehow knew to tap the tip of the Sword in its cavernous head, and blue flame sprang up in its wake. The flames filled the bird’s eyes and beak, and, somehow, he knew to follow where it pointed. He did take a moment to look around, and he saw that they were still in the forest—he could see the fronds and ferns around them, the ceiling of tropical leaves above—but no light breached the canopy. All around him were pillars of stone, crumbled, missing chunks, fused together by erosion. They formed a complete square with only one exit: forward, in the direction the bird pointed. He did not know how he had entered. But this was magic, and it did not matter. He only knew where to go.

The light did not travel far, and soon he was plunged into darkness again. He found another bird, set its empty brain alight, and followed. He knew that he was not safe, in these woods, but he did not feel that danger came from something evil. He was certainly still quite nervous, but he had no option except to continue on.

Eventually, he reached a stretch of the forest where there should have been a torch, he felt, and yet there were none. Just as the thought entered his mind, he became aware of a presence.

He turned.

Link had remembered a thousand deaths when he fell under the Blood Moon, but in this chamber he was forced to _relive_ them. Each time he fell, he fell again. Everything was pain, everything was hard and sharp and sticky and cold and hot. He fell a thousand times, his foes cloaked in shadow, and a thousand and one times the voices called out to him: Chosen Hero, Light in the Dark, Wind Waker, Ancient Champion, Hero of Light, Divine Beast, Hero of Twilight, Moonlit Hero, Farore’s Champion, Hero in Green. A thousand times he fell, and a thousand-and-one times he rose again.

“Hero of Hyrule.”

He turned, saw a tiny soldier—the youngest soldier in Hyrule’s history. The child stood at attention, both hands on the pommel of his sword as he stared at Link from beneath the visor of his helm. The armor had been fashioned a little too big, for they expected him to grow swiftly. His blue eyes were bright and sharp, and the way he said Link’s title was acerbic.

“You knew death was coming.” Those eyes flared gold with impish Divinity. “Why did you run? Heroes run toward battle, not away.”

Link’s grip on the Master Sword tightened. “It took more Courage to run from the Castle than any I have _ever_ wielded,” he said desperately—to himself, for this was the child he had been, before the Sword, before his Awakening, before the prophecy of Calamity hung over his head.

“So why don’t you run _now_ , Hero?”

The child's plaintive voice, an accusation as much as a plea, stunned Link into silence. He couldn’t have responded if he had tried. The child-soldier was gone; in his place stood a dark lamp.

He lit it and followed its pointed beak, this time at a run. He could hear the snarls of the first Divine Beast, the sacred creature of the Twili, the wolf who carried a Triforce in its paw and ate shadows for breakfast. It did not chase him; it chased the _others_ chased him. He did not spare a backward glance as their yips and yowls of pain rose in the night. The Divine Beast had triumphed.

He sensed, though he could not see, that he ran into a wide open space. He stopped, suddenly lost in the vastness of the cavern or clearing he had found.

Link spun slowly on his heel until he caught sight of something in the distance: two insane yellow eyes that belonged to a demon imprisoned in wood and gemstones. The infernal fire within them crackled like laughter. He could hear the ghost of its voice asking him to play; the moon children whispering their timid questions that he still had no answers for.

He raised his Sword, and the orange-yellow glow disappeared as the blue Hinox rolled over in its sleep. A Sheikah orb dangled from its neck.

 _At last,_ he thought frantically, and he lunged into battle.

He crippled the Hinox swiftly, stole its orb, and ran. The pedestal was not far off, its amber inlays glowing like fire in the darkness. Aura seeped in under his feet once he placed the orb in its rightful resting place. The ground shook, and a Shrine rose up in the darkness ahead of him. He ran for it, for he hoped to find refuge inside.

The Sheikah Slate wouldn’t open the Shrine, couldn’t activate the Travel Gate—something was stopping it.

He whirled around and found that it was Fi who hovered in the darkness behind him.

“Fi,” he said quickly. “Let the Slate work!”

“I remember when we first met,” she proclaimed in her strange, melodic voice—in an ancient language, the language of gods-made-flesh. It was a language only she and he and _her_ knew, now. “You told her she needed a sword, and you introduced her to the forge. I was born of the both of you, but only she knew that it would be  _you_ I called Master until the end of Time."

Fi drew closer, and for every inch that closed between them, rust crept across her steel skin, cracks appeared in her face. When she stood before him, alighted on the ground on the tips of her toes, she was as broken as the rusty blade he had pulled from the stone beside the Temple of Time. She stared at him with that blank, unblinking gaze.

“I cannot want anything, for I am but the spirit of a sword. But when you die, I want to die, too, Master.”

She vanished.

The Sword’s light went out, and he was left in a darkness broken only by the glow of aura seeping into the Travel Gate of the Ketoh Wawai Shrine.

He felt suddenly loathe to leave the darkness outside the Shrine. Who was left to haunt him? Midna? His heart skipped a beat, unbidden, and he brought a hand up to his chest.

Link forced himself to enter the Shrine and collect his blessings.

When he returned to the woods, the Sword’s light flared. Something had entered the darkness that had not been there moments before. Something evil. It was the same evil that had tried to claim his soul on Rudania, that had tried to suffocate him on Naboris. It was here, now, no illusion conjured by a Golden Goddess to test his Courage. This was not a trial thought up by Sheikah mystics.

This was a pure Hatred that had infected his soul and turned his own Love against him and his Goddess. This was a Darkness that sought to quench the Light he carried within him.

Link took a step into the Darkness and dared it to  _try._

It roared over him, crashed down upon him like waves. This was a crushing weight that bore down on his soul—his unbreakable soul.

“We will not break,” he snarled into the Darkness, and he drove his Sword into the Demon as he had a thousand thousand times. He encountered real resistance, real anger, against his hands, and it clung to him, sought desperately for purchase in his body and in his soul.

Finding none, it retreated.


	53. Queen of the Wild.

Link knelt in the mouth of the stone dragon and gasped for breath. After breaking free of the darkness of his trial, Link had taken down a whole army of electric lizals and harvested their shock arrows and thunderblades, their tails and their teeth, and he had turned to the Goddess Statue only to find it blocked by a larger moblin than he had ever encountered.

He was _exhausted_.

 _Dear One_ , she whispered. The Demon had grown stronger, had broken her hold momentarily and it stung; her voice was weaker—but her pride in her Hero was stronger than ever. _Present your prize to the Spring of Courage. Your Mother watches_.

He dragged himself deeper down the dragon’s throat and stepped into the water. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end as he withdrew Farosh’s scale from his pack and let it dissolve in the water cupped in his hands. As he stared down at his reflection, he saw another figure join him, and Link raised his eyes to Farore. She took the form of that little Sheikah Elder who had stood at his arm in front of contentious Din and silent, glacial Nayru.

“First Child,” she called him gently. “If rest was mine to give, you would have it. A day will come when the Light of your soul illuminates all the dark corners of this world, but never forget to cast out the darkness from your own heart. Defy the Darkness. See what hope can bring. You have the Courage to stand after falling, to ignite when doused, to see life in ruins. You are my Champion, you are my child, and you have done _well_ , Link.”

Farore extended her hand and touched his cheek. Then, she vanished, and the Shrine revealed itself.

Shee Katha’s blessing was an ancient relic: the Travel Medallion. His exhaustion was partly chased out by excitement as he thought of all the places he would like to place it. He clutched it tightly in his hand as he left the Shrine and returned to his home in Hateno. He longed to complete his map, to scour the far corners of Hyrule, but what he truly desired was sleep. The Courageous One had blessed him, promised him that one day he would see evil leave the world—one day, his soul would rest, and the cycle would _end_.

But that night, Link let his body recover from his travels, let his subconscious mind continue the long and nightmarish process of healing, piecing together a thousand Heroes into one being. Link slept.

 

The next morning, Link prepared himself to take on Hyrule Castle. He planned to try the west entrance—the docks—and see if they were more accessible than the east passage; after all, Granté said he’d left a raft tied on the western shore of the moat. Before he attempted anything, however, Link reorganized his bottomless pack to make room for the essentials: his Sheikah Armor for stealth, his Ancient cuirass, his hood, and his Snowquill headdress. He would wear his Champion’s tunic over his mail and Ancient greaves, with his diamond circlet. As he lay all of his clothes and armor out on the floor of his room, Link decided to bring his Sheikah clothes, too. If nothing else, they were comfortable to sleep in.

He threw the rest of his armor into a trunk and shoved it under his bed. Then he pulled out his weaponry and set about the task of truly organizing his belongings.

The thought of bringing damage to Mipha’s trident or the beautiful historical artifacts of Urbosa’s collection made his stomach churn. He left them on his wall with Daruk’s sword, but he took Revali’s bow off its mount. The others might appreciate the fact that he’d kept a memento of them, but the Rito Champion would probably come back from the grave to haunt him forever if he didn’t at least lodge one Ancient arrow in the Calamity with the Great Eagle Bow. A Lynel bow and a Falcon bow joined Revali’s weapon, and Link certainly had enough arrows to open up shops all across Hyrule. He had several enhanced Guardian swords and shields and battle axes, and he would bring those. The rest of the room in his pack would be taken up by hearty elixirs and meals.

He spent the remainder of the day cooking. Luckily for him, Meghan and Nat were in town again, and he ventured out of his house to purchase more hearty truffles off of them…just in case.

As he said his goodbyes to the merchant sisters, he felt a pang of sorrow. There were people in this world who did not think of him as the Hero, the Hylian Champion, the Chosen One—and that was fine, that was something he treasured. But he _was_ the Hero. He would be sneaking through Hyrule Castle soon enough and facing the Calamity, and he did not know if he would return again to his home in Hateno where the townspeople knew him to say hello and offered him eggs fresh from their coops. Their friend, _their_ hero who was not a legend, may not return. He did not know if he would ever see Granté again, have the chance to say—

_No, this isn’t goodbye._

Link placed the last packaged meal into his pack and tied it closed. Outside his window, the shadows grew long in the afternoon sun. He shouldered his pack, locked his front door, and climbed the roof and looked out at his garden once more. He tried to convince himself that it wouldn’t be long before he returned. The flowers Bolson had planted were in full bloom. Bolson had even put up a sign, for the sake of the Goddess. He couldn’t _not_ return, now.

He traveled to the Sheem Dagoze Shrine and followed the road northeast from there. The nearest Tower was in the middle of a lake, and it was full of electric lizalfos and wizzrobes. With Cryonis’ aid, he was able to rush across the Lake and avoid most of the lizalfos attacks, and once he had reached the base of the Tower, Revali’s Gale got him to a prime location to take out the electric wizzrobes with arrows. A storm was coming; he could see it from his vantage point at the top of the Tower. Lightning touched down nearby at the Breach of Demise, where the Demon King himself had broken Hylia’s seals and entered the realm of the Golden Goddesses. From this vantage point, Hyrule Castle seemed to erupt right out of the Breach, and its purple and red inferno were as angry as the lava stream from Death Mountain.

Link glided down from the Tower and landed not far from the Zalta Wa Shrine. It was a fairly straightforward test, and he was in and out of it in but a few moments.

He was still loathe to get close to Castle Town, so he climbed out of the Breach and headed north. When he passed through the ruins of the Royal Lab, he felt something nag at the back of his mind. Not quite a memory, but another sense that he was close to something important, something that tasted like magic. He quickened his pace.

Finally, the feeling became so strong it was like an anchor around his waist. He turned in a circle to take in what the Golden Ones had wanted him to see.

It was a field of them—of Silent Princesses. Their delicate heads bowed under the breeze, dipped and danced as the first raindrops fell on them from above. They created a radiant white blanket with patches of pinks and blues as other flowers fought for space. These were new blooms, too. The heady perfume of them, the height of the plants—they had not been free from their seeds for long.

Link dropped to his knees and bowed his head to smell them.

 

_“There’s one! Oh! And another!”_

_The Sheikah Slate clicked and beeped as it struggled to focus on different flowers in the foreground of the image before capturing its likeness. It was a wonder, to be sure, and Link appreciated a good flower—but how many photos of the same field of daisies did one need?_

_“The flowers we have in Hyrule aren’t just beautiful… They’re also quite useful as ingredients for a variety of things.”_

_He watched over her shoulder as she took her hundredth photo of the field, and he was careful to keep his amusement and slight exasperation to himself. She could turn any second and catch a slip in his knightly mask—on camera, no less._

_She turned, just as he thought she would, and her expression softened. For a moment, he was entranced by the openness of her face, the care and gentleness in her eyes and the set of her lips. Then she walked past him and bent over to examine a particular flower she had spotted amid the daisies and dandelions._

_He turned to see her, still bent in half to observe; she pushed her hair behind her ears when it fell from her shoulders and threatened to obscure her view._

_He wrestled with himself for a moment, tried to keep the blush from his face and ears. His view was certainly not obscured in the slightest, and it threatened to crack his mask in the most catastrophic way possible._

_“This one here is called the Silent Princess,” She finally fell to her knees to be closer to the flower, though she did not reach to touch it; he could tell she longed to. “It’s a rare, endangered species.”_

_He dropped to his hands and knees to examine this flower. There was a note in her voice he had never heard before, and he wanted to get closer and see what had caused it. Nevertheless, he remained three paces behind and one to the side._

_“Despite our efforts, we can’t get them to grow domestically yet. The Princess can only thrive out here in the wild.” She straightened up, raising a hand to her heart. “All that we can hope is that the species will be strong enough to prosper on its own.”_

_Link could not see her face, but he didn’t have to. He had heard the hope in her voice, the bittersweet wish she had for the Silent Princess._

_He jumped when she lunged forward, to the left of the flower, and snatched something up from the ground with her hands. “Is that what I think it is?” she cried. “Oh, look at this!” She whirled around, still on her knees, and closed the space between them. She kept her hands closed tight in front of her. “I don’t believe it, but I actually caught one!”_

_Link was quite familiar with mischief. He had a nose for it._

_He allowed himself to raise one eyebrow at the Princess of Hyrule, and he was warmed by her grin. “This delicacy is known to have very, very potent effects under the proper circumstances!” She held her hands aloft and finally allowed him to see what she held in side. “Ta-da!” she sang._

_The hot-footed frog chirped plaintively in her hands. Link stared at it blankly, only slightly sympathetic for its plight._

_Zelda lowered her face nearly to the frog’s back. He thought she might kiss it, like in the fairy tales, and a thousand sarcastic lines, jokes, and pick-up lines rose in his mind. He quashed them all._

_“Research from the castle shows ingesting one of these can actually augment certain abilities,” she whispered over the frog’s back, like she didn’t want it to hear that she was suggesting it be eaten. “We wouldn’t be in a controlled environment out here, but with your level of physical fitness…you’d be a perfect candidate for this study!”_

_Link raised his eyes from the frog’s and met hers. They were very close to his, very wide, and very, very green. There were no jewels in all of Eldin that could rival their shade and complexity. Yet he could not completely enjoy the view, because he had realized that she intended for_ him _to eat the frog. Perhaps_ whole _._

_“Go on! Taste it!”_

_She shoved her hands toward him, and he bent backward to avoid the poor frog. As it hopped out of her hands. It landed on his shoulder, briefly, before making its grand escape._

_“I’m not looking for a prince, Highness,” he said with a gentle smile. “But I appreciate your attempt at matchmaking.”_

_He guessed that she had been expecting some sort of dig in return, that perhaps she had been fishing for some kind of reaction—but certainly not that one. She blinked at him, wide-eyed, hands still cupped in front of her as though waiting for the frog to come back._

_He couldn’t help but laugh, and he fell back to sit on his heels, hands fisted in the grass on either side of him as he tried to stay upright. He would allow himself this breach of his facade. She had wanted him to laugh, in some way—and now he laughed._

_The princess began to laugh as well, and she put her hands down in front of her to support her. “Oh, Link, I forgot you’re not a lady friend,” she said, hardly getting the words out through her pealing laughter. “So many have mistaken you for my handmaid, perhaps I began to believe it!”_

_“Joke’s been made,” he assured her. His smile had grown and now it took up his whole face. He felt light. He felt warm. He imagined that her hair was hot to the touch, like sunlight itself._

_He soon found out. She had insisted that, if he wouldn’t accept her attempt at matchmaking, he must engage in another activity popular with Hylian women: flower crowns. He had accepted the alternative punishment and quickly realized that the princess had no idea how to make flower chains at all._

_“How many times have you worn a crown of flowers on festival days?” he asked her in disbelief and scooted closer to sit cross-legged in the tall grass at her side. Their knees touched. “You, Princess-Scholar, never dissected one?”_

_“You forget that I take those crowns and place them from my head onto the head of the Goddess Statue. There’s little time for examination.” She watched his hands intently. He worked slowly for her, showed her how to create loops in flower stems to hook other blooms through. “Where did_ you _learn, might I ask?”_

_She added the last part quickly, a tremor of hesitation in her voice. After the assassination attempt and, apparently, an emotional conversation with Urbosa, the princess had apologized for her previous resentment. He had of course forgiven her, and out of solidarity for her situation he let her in on the secret of his stoic mask. He had not intended on removing it, just explaining its existence—but in the days since then, she had begun to pry it away and peer beneath._

_He only slightly minded._

_“The royal caravans stop infrequently,” Link said finally. “Royal travel was always my mother’s longest shift as the Queen’s Shadow, but when she did eventually return to the back of the caravan, my father would have a flower crown, or a ring of braided grass, or a straw wreath waiting for her. I was a child and wanted to help him make gifts for my mother.”_

_He glanced up at Zelda to find her still staring at his fingers, though her gaze was distant. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Link,” she said softly. “I can tell that it is a treasured memory of your…your mother.”_ _She blinked rapidly and looked away, ostensibly to find flowers of her own._

_Link finished his crown in silence. He had doubled up on flowers to make it thick and lush, but wildflowers could not compare to the carefully cultured roses and lilies of the Royal Botanists. He suddenly felt quite silly._

_Nevertheless, he offered it to her. The smile that broke across her face was the one that he had grown to love lifetimes ago._

_She bowed her head and allowed him to place the crown upon her head. He tucked it carefully behind her ears, tried not to think too much about how close they were, how she looked up at him, happier than he had seen her in a long time._

_“There you go,” he said. “Queen of the Wild.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R!
> 
> This or the next chapter will be the last for a while. I'm taking a work trip for the next 2 weeks that will be quite intense. See you on the other side! Leave some comments to sustain me.


	54. Father and Daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a longer delay than I thought.
> 
> Work was busy, then I moved and started graduate school and life got in the way. Woops!
> 
> R&R! I'm still getting back into the swing of things.

Link raised his head from the flowers and look up at the castle. He was filled with a complex jumble of thoughts: the Goddesses had drawn his footsteps here, called him to this place. _The Silent Princess will thrive in the Wild,_ they seemed to say. _Now, go get her._ But it wasn’t the Golden Goddesses who had left this memory for him, left a photo of this tree on his Sheikah Slate. It had been Zelda. Perhaps it was an important memory for her—the moment she had seen under his stoic facade—but perhaps in her Wisdom she knew it would be important to him, too, to have even the smallest memory of his parents.

He closed his eyes again, let himself truly feel the rain that hit his face and dripped down his cheeks, dampened his hair. The warm breeze that signaled the beginning of summer storm systems. The smell of fertile earth that filled his lungs with every breath, freed by the rain. Somewhere in the grass and the flowers, Link heard the _ribbit_ of a hot-footed frog. It was hard to believe he had sat here one hundred years ago and made flower crowns for a woman he had loved for thousands and thousands of years. How often had moments like that come to the Hero? And he had forgotten it.

Once he freed Zelda from her prison in the castle, they would have the rest of their lives to share moments like this together.

He found Granté’s raft without too much trouble, and directly east of it he could see an alcove in the side of the castle’s foundation that he assumed hid the entrance he was looking for. With his handy Korok leaf, he set off a once.

When he got close to the Hyrule Castle docks, he stowed his Korok leaf and allowed the raft to drift. He listened carefully for sounds of ‘fos and ‘bins and Guardians; after a few moments, he heard the echo of a telltale smack as a lizalfos snatched a fly out of the air somewhere deep in the cavern.

Link drew the Master Sword as he quietly disembarked onto the shore. The Blade of Evil’s Bane shone like a star now that they were within the Castle’s bounds. Fi could feel the Malice all around them, and she was eager to carve into it.

A red lizalfos fell to a stealthy strike in the back, and its comrades down bellow were none the wiser. He appreciated the Great Flameblade, and he especially appreciated the cool three hundred rupees and star fragment that he found as he snuck around the docks. He followed the vibration of his Sheikah Slate to a plateau at the top of the stairs in the cavern. The only thing he could see was an unlit brazier, which he lit with his newly acquired Flameblade.

He activated the Saas Ko’sah Shrine but did not enter it. He had come too far for a few unexchanged spirit orbs to be much use.

At the top of the stairs, he found his path blocked by a metal wall. He pushed past it with Magnesis and found himself surrounded by red lizalfos.

The crowd-clearing charge took care of the monsters on the ground level, but several archers were perched about the room and loosed volley after volley of shock arrows down at him. He still had Magnesis activated and used it to sweep several lizalfos to their deaths.

In the corner of the Slate’s screen, he saw that a seemingly wooden bookshelf was actually a carefully made metal facsimile. Behind it, he found an office that held several relics from the Royal Guard—Link took a black shield that felt comfortable on his arm—and of the King himself. He pocketed the gold rupees stashed inside the desk and opened King Rhoam’s journal to its final entry.

_I have been told my Zelda went to the Spring of Wisdom... This will likely be her last chance. If she is unable to awaken her power at Lanayru, all hope is truly lost. If she comes back without success, then I shall speak kindly with her. Scolding is pointless now. I forced 10 years of training on her... and after all that, it seems her power will stubbornly awaken some other way. Perhaps I should encourage her to keep researching her beloved relics. They may just lead her to answers I can't provide. For now, I sit anxiously, more a father than a king in this moment. I sit and await my daughter's return._

The King’s words fell on Link like a bucket of cold water; he could remember little of Rhoam himself, but from his memories of Zelda, Link inferred that he had resented the King nearly as much as Zelda did. Of course, the King’s ghost had spoken to Link directly of his remorse, and Link had had weeks to wrestle with his bitterness and resentment toward the King and the divine powers that dictated the course of his lives—but it was unlikely that Zelda would have such a chance at catharsis. Perhaps in one hundred years she had shed her own resentment toward her father and her destiny, but not resenting her father and knowing that he had intended to make some reparation for a harsh decade under his command…those were two very different things. Seeing his intention written in his own hand had the potential to heal something in her that Link’s own account of the ghost king’s remorse never could.

Link continued his trek through the Castle, the King’s journal tucked carefully in his pack alongside the ghost’s book of recipes and remorse.

At the top of the library stairs, he found a Great Frostblade stuck in a pile of rubble. The hallways were filled with fallen weapons and sleeping lizalfos. He cleared them as he went and eventually stumbled across a moblin keeping watch in a room it had hoarded several royal weapons and rusty weapons alike. He was struck by the familiarity of the whole arsenal of Royal Guard weapons—swords and bows alike; he knew, from Impa, that he hadn’t merely been a knight. He had been a Royal Guardsman, even a Captain. Even though he could not remember it consciously, his muscles did.

He continued on, sometimes scaling walls where stairs had crumbled. He wanted to clear the halls of Malice and eyes, but much of it was so entrenched in the stonework that it was an impossible task to remove. He was forced to double back on his path more often than not and find an alternate way forward, upward.

Like he had in Zonai, he could feel the echoes of those who had traveled these halls before him. The very stones were charged with the heightened emotions of the Castle’s last occupants; remnants of panic and anger and dread that were not his own pulsed through him when he passed through certain rooms or climbed certain stairs.

Eventually it became clear that he would either need to scale the exterior of the Castle—which crawled with Turrets, Stalkers, and Skywatchers—or he would have to go down to the bowels of the Castle and hope to find a path there that might take him to the throne room.

That was how he found them: a crumbled wall. A chute. Guided by the imprints of the past tragedy, Link found himself in a cellblock surrounded by moblins and lizalfos and Malice. He ran between a moblin’s legs and past a blizzard rod-wielding lizalfo and right into a trap.

The Stalnox’s heavy stomps caused the gate to slam down behind Link’s back, thankfully shielding him from the ‘fos and ‘bins, but trapping him in the dungeon with the giant, angry skeleton. He made short work of it with his bow and blade, and as it fell, its flailing limbs caused the ceiling above to cave in. Link dove to the side to avoid the crush of stone and debris.

When the dust cleared and his coughing fit had subsided, he picked through the rubble to see if anything of interest had fallen through from the room above. A shield protruded from between some stones, and when he finally pulled it free he found the shield of the Hero—completely undamaged.

The Hylian Shield felt more comfortable on his arm than even the Royal Guard’s shield, though he knew there was no chance he had ever held this particular object in his most recent lifetime. This was the shield crafted for another Hero, long ago; he had appeared to Link in Hyrule Forest with it at his side.

Honestly, Link was surprised that the thief Misko hadn’t taken this priceless relic, too.

“Thanks,” Link said to the remains of the Stalnox, and with the help of Revali’s Gale, he escaped the dungeon for the room above.

The path he took from there led him up through the western side of the Castle. It had been largely blocked off to him previously by walls of Malice, and it seemed to be mostly empty of monsters as well. With Fi on his back and the Hylian Shield on his arm, Link felt more sure of himself than ever before. When he found himself facing a white moblin—who seemed just as surprised as he was to find another living creature on this side of the Castle—he dispatched it with greater ease than ever before.

The room he was in had been utterly destroyed by time and the elements, but he slowly realized it had once been part of the royal chambers. Small clues revealed themselves as he explored, and when he found the harp laying against the wall—strings rotted or broken years ago—he knew that he had found Zelda’s room.

He scaled the wall and stepped out onto the walkway he knew led to her study. Evening was falling rapidly, and through the haze of the Calamity, the sunlight burned blood red across the world. From this vantage point, Hyrule looked nothing like he knew it to be; the red smoke cast an apocalyptic tinge on world. Malice covered most of the Castle on this side, dripping and crackling in the most evil way. Anger stirred in Link’s belly at the sight, and he pulled out the Slate to refer to the photo Zelda had left him of the very spot.

 

 _It had been a long journey they shared, venturing to the four corners of Hyrule to establish her reign as Princess Commander of the Divine Beasts. They had forged a tentative friendship on the way, yet it was there, in that forsaken Spring, that she opened her eyes and finally_ looked _at him._

_He had asked if she remembered, and she did not. But she didn’t need to remember all their past lives to feel the connection between their cursed souls._

_They left the Spring and made their way slowly back to the Castle. They traveled in silence, but as they traveled side-by-side both understood that something had changed._

_When they finally returned, and she made her way to her rooms to change from her riding clothes, he caught her gaze once more. In it, he saw a calm and a certainty that hadn’t been there before. She knew it wasn’t her fault. She knew it wasn’t up to her, whether her powers awoke or not. It was up to destiny at this point, and that knowledge had freed her._

_Her handmaids left, and he entered the room to resume his post. Zelda did not look at him again, but when he returned she headed to her study for her afternoon prayers. As she walked, she caught sight of her engineers and soldiers below wrestling with a clumsy Guardian. She drew close to the wall and leaned forward to examine their progress._

_“Incredible…” She nodded slowly, a Commander assessing her troops. “We’re at a point now where we can actually control them. At the current rate, we’ll soon know all we need to know about the Guardians and the Divine Beasts. And, should my premonitions prove true and Ganon ever show itself, we’ll be well positioned to defend ourselves.”_

_She turned, her shoulders back and gaze level. Her quiet confidence would have inspired Link to fall to his knee there and then and pledge allegiance to her flag—but that confidence shattered the moment her father’s voice pierced the air._

_“What are you doing out here, Zelda?”_

_Link dropped to one knee and kept his face to the ground as the King approached. He could not risk the notoriously surly man catching sight of his resentful eyes, the defiant set of his jaw. He had seen the Princess come so far in such a short time, yet at every step of the way, this blind fool insisted on erasing whatever progress she made._

_“I—”_

_Out of the corner of his eye, Link saw Zelda’s fist curl as her courage flared. “I was assessing the results of the experiment with the Guardians,” she told her father firmly. She took two deliberate steps forward, placing herself between the King and her Knight. “These pieces of ancient technology could be quite useful against the—”_

_“I know that. They are essential to Hyrule’s future, and our research demands that we keep a close eye on them.” The King’s voice was unusually gentle, and it raised the hair on the back of Link’s neck. Nothing good was going to come of what Zelda had started. “However,” the King continued, “as the princess you currently have a crucial, unfulfilled responsibility to your kingdom.”_

_There it was—the slap to the face Zelda had not needed. The worst thing her father could have done to her fresh, young courage._

_“Let me ask you once more… When will you stop treating this as some sort of childish game?”_

_“I’m doing everything I can.” Zelda’s voice was carefully restrained, but it was clear that she was disappointed her father did not see what she had accomplished, what she had overcome. “I’ll have you know that I just returned from the Spring of Power where I offered every ounce of my prayers to the Goddess—”_

_“And now you are here wasting your time. You need to be dedicating every moment you have to your training.” The King’s robes rustled as he gestured dismissively at the work going on below them. “You must be single-minded in unlocking the power that will seal Calamity Ganon away.”_

_Zelda’s disbelief was mixed with grief. “I already am,” she pleaded. “Don’t you see—there’s nothing more I can do! My hope is that you—that you’ll allow me to contribute here in whatever way I can!”_

_“No more excuses, Zelda!”_

_She gasped._

_“Stop running away from your duty. As the king, I forbid you to have anything to do with these machines from this moment on and command you to focus on your training.”_

_The King turned, unable to look at his shaking, grief-stricken daughter. “Do you know how the gossip mongers refer to you? They are out there at this moment whispering amongst themselves… that you are the heir to a throne of nothing…nothing but failure.”_

_Zelda could not look up. Her fists uncurled, and she laced her fingers together in front of her in utter defeat. In that moment, Link cursed himself for not having the courage to rip open the King’s chest and show the world that he had no heart._

_“It is woven into your destiny that you prove them wrong. Do you understand?”_

_“Yes,” Zelda said feebly. “I understand.”_

_Her father and his guards left._

_Neither Link nor Zelda moved for a long, painful moment. Link wanted to stand and confront her with the truth of the matter—that her father was a clueless fool, that no one could know what she was going through—no one but himself—that her righteous indignation at the Spring was justified. That she, and he, were cursed in a way no one could understand but for the other. That they should forsake their forsaken destinies, because clearly her father and the world were forsaking_ them _._

_Instead, Link maintained his genuflect, and he said, “It’s not true.” Zelda made a soft, questioning sound and turned to him. He still could not look up at her. “No one says that about you. Not in the Castle, not in town, not in any corner of Hyrule.”_

_Zelda’s hands were gentle as they braced his shoulders. She lifted him up until they stood eye-to-eye. “He’s right on other accounts,” she said wearily. “I cannot allow myself to believe all is for naught. I must keep the faith.”_

_For a long moment, they stared at each other in silence. He had felt the reprimand in her words; a small part of him knew that she was right._

_Finally, Zelda dropped her hands and retreated to her study to resume her prayers._


	55. Sword and Soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R!

Link collected Zelda’s research notes for her, then scavenged her room once more for things she might appreciate once freed. In the process, he found a second journal hidden beneath the wreckage of her bed.

His heart ached at the sight of the juvenile postscripts she had addressed to her own journal. The thought of a sixteen-year-old girl scribbling so angrily in her diary as she tried to figure out what her knight thought of her…he snorted at some of her conclusions. It was so ironic that he had resented her, too, for hiding her true thoughts from him one hundred years ago.

They were just lost children, then. Would they ever worry about such things again, after everything that had transpired—and everything that was about to?

He left her diary in that isolated room, and he made his way to the Sanctum.

The light that cut through the haze of the Calamity was like molten gold. It cast sharp shadows where it fell on the Castle and highlighted the desolate, destroyed throne room as Link approached. The symbol of the Triforce burned before him; backlit by the setting sun, it beckoned him inside to face his destiny.

He did not carry the power of the Triforce in him as past Heroes had. He wielded only his Sword and his own Soul—but he had done something no other Hero could claim. He had proved himself to the Goddesses of Wisdom, Power, and Courage, and he was their Chosen, now, as much as he was Hylia’s. Certain of their faith, and of the love of his Goddess, Link stepped into the Sanctum.

The moment he crossed the boundary, the demon turned its attention from its Divine battle with the Sealing Princess and began to claw its way back to its physical form. Divine Light shimmered through the pulsating mass of Malice as Zelda, too, tried to return to the physical plane; her voice was faint, weakened from one hundred years spent fighting back the Darkness.

_Link…_

_I’m sorry…but my power isn’t strong enough…_

_I can’t…hold…him…_

Her voice faded, and her presence in the arena disappeared, swallowed up by the swell of Evil incarnate.

A beam of white fire exploded from the distorted chrysalis that held Ganon’s physical reincarnation; it tore wildly through the Sanctum as the demon fought for release, and in its wake the beam left deep gouges in the stone. Link covered his face against the infernal heat; in the pause after the commotion, he dared to look up at Ganon as its physical form slipped out of its pod.

The impact of the monster’s giant, limp mass of limbs and guts and Malice cracked the already-damaged floor of the Sanctum, and the ground fell away. Ganon dropped like a dead weight, and Link fell with him.

The demon’s hellish glow illuminated the tunnel; Link saw that it was lined with the same slick stone that Shrines were made of—stone impossible to scale. They had built this trap to hold something that was never meant to escape.

Ganon hit the ground below with an ear-splitting, earth-shaking roar, and Link glided into the room on his paraglider just as it began to draw itself upright.

It was an amalgamation of all the worst qualities of the blights—an abomination of corrupted Sheikah technology, magic, and Malice. The Calamity’s form was spider-like, with giant, spear-tipped legs that scuttled it around the room to track Link’s path down from above.

Link landed on fleet feet and stood tall in the face of the scourge of Hyrule Castle. In the glow of Ganon’s hellfire, Link’s hair burned gold like a crown, and his eyes pierced the murk of the room like stars. His Soul thrummed with Courage; every fiber of his being resonated as the Curse of Demise once again came to a head.

He stared down the Demon, the embodiment of the Doubt and Hate that had followed him through the ages and had threatened to consume him, body and Soul. But he was the Light in the Darkness, and—

“We will not break.”

The words were at once a taunt to the Demon, an exhortation to himself and his Sword, and a promise to his beloved Goddess.

Magic surged from the far corners of Hyrule; Link felt the aura around him, beneath his feet, pull taught as the Divine Beasts drew upon it for their assault.

He braced himself, and Calamity Ganon unleashed a scream of incalculable, ancient rage.

The light came like an endless barrage from above. It pinned Ganon to the floor of the oubliette with the force of a thousand arrows. Link was forced to cover his eyes against the onslaught, the blinding light and its Divine heat. The vengeance of the Divine Beasts and their Champions visited a terrible, righteous fury on the Demon, and when it finally subsided, the fire in Ganon seemed to have been doused. Its mandibles clicked and rasped as it struggled to reignite its Hatred, to stand, but Link knew better than to think that the fight was close to being over.

The Calamity drew itself up and snipped and snapped its back pincers with deadly promise. It unleashed yet another deafening roar: a promise to destroy the Hero, the souls of the Champion, and their Goddess alike.

Link drew the Master Sword, and he faced the Calamity.

The mighty, magma-infused axe of the Fireblight stole all the oxygen from the room as it flew toward him, but Link slipped out of time as fluidly as a dancer might. Fi burned hotter than ever as her Goddess-given light bit into her eternal foe; her edge was harder than diamond, sharpened and forged with the Hero’s own soul.

The Calamity broke free of the moment and reared back to strike again, but Link had whipped the Slate from its home on his hip and aimed its powered-up Stasis at the beast. Golden light encased it, and in its paralysis Link unleashed Urbosa’s Fury.

As the lightning faded, Ganon scuttled out of range of the Sheikah Slate—but Link was fast with a bow, and Revali’s favored weapon flung triune arrows straight and true. The Ancient projectiles found their target in Ganon’s multitude of eyes, and its screams of agony and hate shook the earth beneath Link’s feet. Pain lanced through him as his ears strained against the onslaught of noise, but he did not need to hear in order to fight, so he gritted his teeth and gripped his sword tight.

Ganon took aim with the laser arm it had once given the Windblight, but Link raised the Hylian Shield and parried with the strength of Daruk’s Protection. The explosion that followed filled the chamber with smoke and flame, and Link found himself blind and deaf in the dark. He blinked desperately and tried to put distance between himself and the Calamity, though he could not see from which direction it might come. Suddenly, Daruk’s Protection swelled in him once again to deflect the far-reaching spear of the Waterblight, but he did not brace himself in time. The force of the impact threw Link across the dungeon and sent him rolling across the baking-hot ground.

His anguished tears cleared his vision, and he saw the Calamity rise up above him. Its movements had changed—it had grown more desperate, stronger in its hatred. As it met his eyes, its fury burned hotter than lava and flared to the surface of its form.

Link discovered that no arrows, not even beams of Divine Light from the Sword, could penetrate the hard shell of Ganon’s hatred. He found himself forced to play a game of chase, running in zig-zags between its dancing, spear-tipped legs and its flailing, weaponized arms as he waited for it to channel its fury into the offense once more.

When it became clear that Ganon might be content waiting for him to exhaust himself, Link skidded to a halt in front of the creature’s terrible, mutated face, and braced himself.

_We will not break!_

The spirit of the Sword, its star-forged steel, and the Soul of the Hero sang with a faith stronger than Hate, and the Calamity could not stand it.

With the last of Daruk’s Protection, Link parried the Calamity’s downward strike and broke through its defensive shield. Lightning and Divinity coursed through the Master Sword as he carved into Ganon’s terrible form and rained electric hell down from above.

The Calamity threw him back with a blast of hellfire, and Link’s feet had barely touched the ground when he spotted the incoming axe swing. With the momentum the Calamity had given him, he flipped backwards over the searing-hot stone axe, and he clung to the moment with all his might. In the opening left behind, he landed blow after blow—until his grip on Time snapped.

The recoil hit Link hard, but he managed to remain upright as the Calamity crashed to the earth. He could barely lift his arms, but Link strung an ancient arrow and aimed it for Ganon’s rolling, fading eyes.

Amid the swirl of aura, the Calamity began to melt. It dragged itself forward, chased Link even as it leaked its malicious life force like a geyser. Violet-red beams of light burst forth from Ganon’s pulsating shell, and noxious gas filled the chamber. When it lifted, Link looked up to find that the Calamity had fled with the smoke—fleeing for Hyrule.

He felt the Goddess’s firm hold on his own spirit, and the arena faded from view as she spirited him to the middle of Hyrule Field, where Prayer awaited him. She wore Epona’s livery, and though her eyes rolled with nervous energy, she moved closer to him as the Goddess pieced his physical form back together.

_Ganon…_

_Ganon…_

Link turned to face the hurricane of Malice that had engulfed the Fields. Limbs burst from the churning gale, formed of a hardened, blackened armor pulled tight over giant muscle and sinew.

_Ganon… You interrupted his reincarnation…and he has assumed his pure, enraged form!_

Zelda’s voice grew in strength as the Beast relinquished its control over her to focus on its corporeal form, to channel its power into this last stand against the Hero and his Goddess. Hooves the size of Divine Beasts scorched the earth, and white-hot hellfire erupted from its eyes as the bull took shape.

_The embodiment of the ancient evil that is reborn time and time again…if set free upon our world, the destruction will be unlike anything ever seen before._

Prayer screamed, whether in fear or defiance, Link could not tell.The adrenaline that coursed through him made his hands shake, deafened him with the beats of his racing heart, but he could not afford to lose himself to the feeling. Zelda’s presence swirled around him as he tried to muster the strength and presence of mind to continue the battle. His hand flew to his heart, and he allowed himself to close his eyes for one moment, to commune with his Goddess once more. Perhaps—for the last time.

Just as she had braced him by the shoulders one hundred years ago and rebuked him for his lack of faith, he felt her hands on his shoulders, her warmth in his heart. There was no rebuke in her voice now—only pride...and hope. 

_You may not yet be at a point where you have fully recovered your power or all of your memories…but Courage need not be remembered…for it is never forgotten!_

A Divine Light burned in the field between him and the Dark Beast, and she released her Hero onto the battlefield. He swung up into the saddle and urged Prayer into a gallop toward the light that coalesced yards ahead of them.

 _I entrust you with the Bow of Light!_ Zelda cried. _With the light of your Soul and my power combined, its arrows are unstoppable!_

He leaned out of the saddle to snatch up the bow, and it felt like Fi in his hands. Prayer swung around the side of the Dark Beast of her own accord and narrowly avoided an onslaught of evil and fire.

Link bent low over her neck, and when Prayer had regained a safe distance between them the Dark Beast, he readied his bow. He narrowed his eyes in search of any weak point in the armor of Malice that shrouded the Dark Beast— _Goddess, guide me,_ he prayed, and he loosed an arrow of Divine Light.

It flew as straight as a Guardian laser, and as fast. The impact sent a rain of Malice and fire down on the field below the monster; Hyrule Field would be a decimated landscape, if it survived the battle.

Link urged Prayer on.

The Dark Beast’s oxen tail whipped toward them as though they were pesky flies, but Prayer escaped unsinged. Link raised the bow again and hit the beast in the shoulder. It was a glancing blow, but it send the Beast on a rampage down the length of the fields to put some distance between them. It was fast for a beast its size, but it couldn’t muster the energy for its attack fast enough to avoid Link’s arrow to its eye.

Prayer had drawn dangerously close as it charged up its attack, and as it fell to the earth, she was forced to flee between its legs and under its barrel chest; as they passed close to its magma-hot skin, Link felt another weak point open in its defense. He shot an arrow directly upward, into its belly, and the roar that followed told him he had struck true.

Prayer swung round to Ganon’s front, where its snout was buried deep in the ground as it tried to recover. A blinding light cut down the center of its forehead, and its skull burst open to reveal a single, giant, Malicious eye.

_LINK!_

The arrow slipped past Link’s fingers.

The bowstring snapped in his ear.

Divine Light pierced the very core of Ganon’s being, and the ensuing explosion was that of Reality itself splintering, just for a moment, to release the Goddess from her prison.

The Beast’s hateful eyes were wide as the Goddess returned to their plane of existence in the form of the little girl in prayer. She alighted on the ground before it, and Divine Light billowed off of her like gas from a burning star.

The Dark Beast fell prostrate before her, crippled by the Hero. But it would not leave this plane without her.

A pulse of holy power rippled out from her clasped hands and beat the Beast back. Its defiant, spiteful roars filled the fields as she lowered her eyes in prayer. As the strength of her prayers grew, it was forced to relinquish its corporeal form in favor of the smoke of Hell that had first swallowed her up.

Ganon flew through the air, corrupting the very atmosphere against the Goddess, but she wielded the Triforce, and in its light there could be no Despair.

She raised her hand in face of that which would consume her, and a light brighter than the sun rose up in front of her. The light illuminated every corner of Hyrule, chased out every shred of Malice until there was nowhere to hide. Ganon was forced back, forced inwards, until it was completely encapsulated in Divine Light.

Then, the fabric of reality opened once more, and the Goddess drove the Demon from Hyrule once more.


	56. Heroes of Hyrule.

The apocalyptic atmosphere had faded and left them in the twilight of an early summer night. Smoke remained on the breeze, but there was a sweetness to the air that the Malice had previously obscured. Link treasured every breath, though they pained him; as his adrenaline subsided, he began to realize the toll the battle had taken on his body. Blood dripped from his fingertips; the skin of his forearm was burned and torn from the hot stone floor of the oubliette; his ribs ached from being thrown across the arena.

The pain was nothing compared to the agony of being separated from his Goddess one moment more.

With every step, the doubts and fears that had often troubled him over the course of his journey returned with a vengeance. He should have felt triumphant. He should have felt happier, more joyful than ever before. After all, his Goddess stood before him, glowing like the first star of the evening. But as he drew closer, his heart feared to hope.

“I’ve…been keeping watch over you all this time…” She kept her back to him as he approached. Her hands—which just a moment before had vanquished the Demon—were fisted fearfully in the skirt of her dress. “I’ve witnessed your struggles to return to us…as well as your trials in battle.”

He took up his expected place, three steps behind her.

“I always thought…no, I always _believed_ that you would find a way to defeat Ganon.” She began to turn, her gaze still low. “I never lost faith in you over these many years… Thank you, Link…”

She clasped her hands over her heart. He could see how they trembled, how much fear still dwelt in her chest as she finally raised her eyes to him and smiled and named him.

“Hero of Hyrule.”

Link wondered who she saw before her. He was taller, gaunter. He wondered if she saw her Champion, or the Hero of an age long gone. And he wondered, as he had since the day he had died, if she had heard his last words on Blatchery Plain.

The skies cleared above them, and the radiant summer sunset set her hair aflame like molten gold. A thousand princesses stood in her place: the girl in a pink dress, stolen from an island in the sky; the child who had asked him to find jewels in her courtyard; the selfless priestess filled with divine light. He wanted to touch her, as he had longed to since the first age of Hyrule, but he could not bring himself to add his blood to her dirtied dress.

“May I ask…” She took a deep breath to steady herself for whatever blow might follow. There was deep hope in her eyes. A kind of hope that acknowledged despair but looked past it for what could be.

“Do you really remember me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R.
> 
> Post-BOTW fic will begin shortly. Check my profile for it soon...


End file.
